Du Gata abr du Shur'tugal
by Argetsverd
Summary: After the siege of Feinster, Eragon and his companions continue on their quest to defeat the Black King. Set after Brisingr (book 3). Please R&R I need some feedback on this. The title translates "The Path of the Dragon Rider" Rated T just in case. ExA later
1. Moving On

**A/N: This is my first fanfic so please R&R! :) Constructive criticism welcomed, if you believe this story sucks then I'd appreciate it if you are polite about it.**

**Now, as my favorite series is the Inheritance Cycle, it would only be fitting to make it my first. So let's see how this one will go eh? I do not own the Inheritance Cycle (obviously) and all IC belongs to CP. Except for maybe Angela as that belongs to CP's sister, Angela. **

**Let us begin… **

_Three days, _thought Eragon. Three days had passed since the siege of Feinster and three days since the death of Eragon and Saphira's mentor Oromis. Three days since Eragon and Arya defeated the Shade Varaug._ How odd that the events have unfolded so differently yet so similarly_ _to the events in Farthen Dûr. That we should be victorious, only to realize how much we have lost. I defeated a Shade, yet Ajihad died and Murtagh got kidnapped. Now, Arya defeated the Shade, but our teachers are lost, Oromis completely and Glaedr in body._

_Little one, _Saphira murmured_. Do not dwell on things you cannot change. Remember, we cannot stop until the day the Black King and his dragon are dead. Unless Murtagh and Thorn could change their true names and join us, we are the sole bearers of this burden._

Eragon sighed. _I know Saphira; it's just that I miss them. Miss them and need them._

_As do I. But let us fulfill our duty to the Varden and Alagaësia to the best of our abilities._

_We shall. Saphira, are you near?_

_Look behind you! _Saphira exclaimed_._

Eragon whirled around from where he sat and beheld Saphira, an azure streak of magnificence swooping towards him and landing in a gentle glide. Eragon's throat was clogged with emotion. Every time he watched Saphira fly, he felt a sense of wonder that he, a farm boy, could be lucky enough to be a part of something as legendary and respected as the Dragon Riders. The knowledge came with a heavier weight upon his shoulders as he realized he was the last Rider in Alagaësia, discounting Murtagh and Galbatorix. Eragon could not help but start smiling with pure joy, a joy Saphira could feel radiating from him through their connection, which she in turn expressed.

_Do you wish to fly with me today?_ Saphira queried.

_I do, but I must report to Nasuada soon_, Eragon responded.

_It can wait. We must find happiness whenever we can, for the closer we get to Urû'baen, the less time we shall have._

_Very well, _Eragon grumbled_. At least I can say it was your idea._

_I shall be fast. Besides, how can you punish a dragon?_

_Through her Rider, _Eragon laughed. He quickly climbed onto her back, avoiding the spikes. _Let's go! _

Unfurling her wings, Saphira leapt into the air, flapping with smooth powerful strokes. Before long they were in the clouds, basking in the late summer sunlight. From this height, Feinster was just a blurred smudge the size of Eragon's palm. The encampment of the Varden was just a cloud of tiny dots marking the location of the tents. _It seems so peaceful from up here, _thought Eragon. Saphira agreed, and for a while they flew in silence, simply enjoying each other's company and appreciating the world from this innocent point of view. Eragon closed his eyes, and briefly imagined a world without war or conflict, a world without Galbatorix. He and Saphira could fly around as they pleased, perhaps taking Arya with them. But thoughts like these wouldn't end the fighting any faster, and so Eragon's thoughts returned to the present. He opened his eyes.

_We should return_.

_Yes we should, _Eragon said_, though I wish we could do this every day._

_Such wishes are childish, you know it isn't possible. _

_Yes but the feeling remains the same._

When Eragon and Saphira arrived at Nasuada's pavilion, they were greeted by a small host of humans gathered at the entrance, while the Nighthawks stood guard. When the group saw Eragon and Saphira approach, they parted and dispersed back amongst their duties. As Eragon entered the tent, he was surprised to see Angela and Solembum, as well as Arya, Orik, and King Orrin. Elva stood behind Nasuada's chair watching everything intently. A strange, childlike figure stood discussing intensely with Nasuada, who looked slightly irritated with the discussion occurring. When she noticed Eragon enter, she raised her hand in the air, which momentarily silenced the stranger, who turned around to see what had caused the distraction. Eragon sucked in his breath. _It's a werecat. _

There was no denying it, from the diminutive size, to the catlike eyes; the figure looked exceedingly like Solembum in human form. There were some differences, however. This particular cat had a certain regal air, as if he beheld everyone as below him somehow. A small dagger was strapped to his belt, a shiny pearl embedded in the pommel. And (and Eragon was even more confused at this), he had the last two fingers of his right hand missing. Regaining composure from her discussion, Nasuada stood and said,

"Eragon, I'd to formally introduce you to Grimmr Halfpaw, king of the werecats."

**A/N: Edited 11/25/13**


	2. Grimmr Halfpaw

_So you're the Dragon Rider then,_said Grimmr_._

_Yes, I am Era_—

_Eragon Shadeslayer, yes we know that already,_interrupted the werecat_. Tell me, have you had anything to do with werecats and their wise words? Or should I say_that_werecat?_Grimmr gestured towards Solembum.

Eragon was taken aback. He wasn't surprised that the werecat knew his name, almost everyone did; he was surprised at how Grimmr knew he had been told some things important by Solembum. Or at least the king hinted at it.

_Perhaps. Did Solembum tell you whether he did or not?_

The werecat blinked. _Maybe, but it is of no importance._

Eragon continued, assuming that Solembum had. _Did he tell you what it was about?_

Again the royal werecat merely blinked. _Perhaps, __he repeated.__ It does not matter._

Eragon then stood, contemplating as to what to do next. _Saphira? What do you think?_

After a while, Saphira said carefully_, I do not know for sure, but instinct tells me to be wary. We know how werecats are. They do as they please and will seldom, if ever, reveal their true intentions._

_Then I think it's safe to speak of this matter, for it is a werecat, and if indeed what we know is true, then it is highly unlikely that anyone else would know without our permission._

After this discussion, Eragon then regarded Grimmr again.

_King Halfpaw-_-

_Let us keep it as Grimmr, if that's agreeable Shadeslayer_, interrupted the werecat.

_My apologies, Grimmr, though I am not the only Shadeslayer here._Eragon said, testing the werecat.

_Yes the she-elf is one as well. We know_, Grimmr said impatiently_. Do you want to know what Solembum was talking about or not? I do not wish to tarry._

_Again, my apologies. Only,_Eragon faltered, and then continued_. Why do you keep referencing yourself as 'We'?_

The feline king sighed, both visibly and across their link_, I say 'we' because I am referring to my people, the werecats. We do not huddle together as the other races do, but we do manage to gather where interesting events unfold. Now, may we continue?_

Before Eragon could respond, King Orrin interrupted,

"Tell me, your Highness, if I may be so bold as to ask, but, pleasantries and formal introductions aside, could you and the Dragon Rider continue this discussion at a more agreeable time?"

At this, Grimmr suddenly stiffened visibly. Solembum gave a faint hiss at the Surdan king and even Nasuada looked slightly exasperated at the man. Only Arya gave no visual or verbal cues to her reaction.

_We could,_eventually came the response.

Orrin was obviously not satisfied with the answer.

"Will you?"

The cat king did not respond to this, but merely turned, ever so slightly bowed at Nasuada, then walked off, out of the tent. At the exit, he paused and said,

_Eragon, we shall have this discussion at a later time. For now, we depart._And without another word, Grimmr slipped through the tent folds and was gone.

Orrin grumbled audibly, which immediately drew another hiss from Solembum.

Nasuada took a deep breath and said,

"Regardless of how that discussion went, and it certainly could have gone better, all of us here came to discuss some things with you Eragon, before we were forestalled by the arrival of the werecat king."

Eragon indicated, "Even Angela?" The herbalist made no attempt to reply.

"Oh, her? No, she simply arrived of her own accord and since she was accompanied by Solembum, there was no questioning their presence."

"Now," she continued, "we need to discuss our plans on the next siege of Belatona. We shall lose many troops, but I know we will defeat the city. In addition, it seems that there are few supplies in Feinster we can take without leaving their citizens impoverished. This is why I have decided to trade men for more supplies. An unjust bargain, I know, but it is necessary if we are to march onto Dras Leona. And," she raised her hand to stop Eragon, and indeed everyone, from interrupting and shouting. "And I also have planned to have ships built or bought to sail a small fleet of soldiers to Teirm to assist the elves there." This caused even louder shouts of disbelief and indignation. When it seemed everything was out of control, Saphira poked her head through the folds of the tent and growled loudly. Dead silence ensued.

Regaining her composure, Nasuada resumed, "Arya and I both discussed this at length with Islanzadí, and she has convinced her people to retake the seaside-city that was once theirs. If all goes as planned, by the time they have captured the city, we should have taken Belatona if not already Dras Leona. From there I'm afraid we have no choice but to immediately march to Urû'baen. Then we shall either be victorious, or simply pass into the darkness."

The ideas Nasuada presented greatly disturbed Eragon. Belatona seemed reasonable enough, but Teirm? And how many soldiers would be sent? Eragon fervently hoped that Roran would not leave on that deployment. _The plan makes a certain amount of sense, but the sheer numbers of lives needed to sustain winning battles are simply unavailable._

_Remember Eragon,_Saphira said_, we have all the dwarves now, and if the elves defeat Teirm, which I know they will, then we are not as beleaguered as you may think._

_Maybe so, but unless Belatona is less protected than Feinster, I fear we will be sorely outmatched indeed. And I do not doubt the elves either, but it's been over a hundred years since they fought on such a grand scale, and I don't know how much they lost at Gil'ead._

Voicing his concerns, he spoke aloud to Nasuada,

"How long until we march again? Have the elves started towards Teirm yet? Suppose Murtagh and Thorn arrive at Teirm or even Belatona, we can't defeat them without taking even heavier losses. I—"

"Peace, Eragon," Nasuada responded, "I have anticipated this, and if what you say is true about the events in Gil'ead, then Murtagh and Thorn have most likely been sent back to Urû'baen to heal their wounds and gather their strength. This should give us enough time until we reach Dras Leona."

Eragon dipped his head in respect. Of course she had planned this.

"I understand Nasuada."

The Varden leader nodded in approval, then addressed everyone,

"This meeting is finished. Orrin, I wish to speak with you in private afterwards. Everyone else may leave. We march again at dawn in two days' time."

As everyone was leaving, Eragon found himself walking alongside Arya. He thought of what he should say, for he felt the need to talk to her. They hadn't spoken together since the night after the battle at Feinster.

"Arya, how have you been?" he asked in the Ancient Language.

Arya turned, inclined her head in acknowledgement and said quietly but firmly, "I… I have been recovering from losing Oromis. I think I am much better now," she finished with a faint smile.

They were both silent a moment until Eragon said, "I have tried as well. I find that with the comfort and familiarity of others, this quest to defeat Galbatorix does not seem so bleak. Mainly with the help of Saphira, and her from me, I can stay hopeful and focused. And perhaps," he paused, hoping to convey the right meaning, "We can include you in this as well."

Arya continued walking in silence until she said softly,

"Yes, I believe I can join as well. I would like that."

The two continued walking in silence, followed by Saphira, with Blödhgarm a further distance behind.


	3. Departure

When Eragon returned to his tent, having departed from Nasuada's pavilion, he was surprised to find Grimmr lying on his cot, in cat form.

_I came to finish our conversation, Shadeslayer._

_Yes, of course. I do wish to know what Solembum was talking about. _Eragon admitted_, but we did figure out what he meant by finding a weapon under the Menoa tree._

_Indeed. Yet you wish to know where the Rock of Kuthian is and what to do to open the Vault of Souls._

Eragon was surprised, but he concealed his reaction under a blank mask. _Yes, that is what I need to know. _He said cautiously.

Grimmr starting licking his maimed paw, then stopped and said _The Rock of Kuthian is one of the most powerful sources of magic known. It was discovered by some wayward traveling scholars from Kuasta, who recorded what they had observed before they continued on their return to their city._

_But if such a powerful magic exists, then how come the Dragon Riders did not know of this? _Eragon interrupted. _Or even the elves?_

_The elves knew, for a time, but soon it was forgotten by all but the werecats. Even Galbatorix does not know for sure. _

Eragon interjected, _How is this possible? And what was the reason for this?_

Grimmr looked directly at Eragon and said with a flash of annoyance. _Do you want to know where to look for it, O great Rider, or will you simply interrupt with meaningless questions about the past?_

Chastised, Eragon murmured, _I am sorry. Please continue Grimmr._

Grimmr took a deep breath and closed his eyes, and for a while it seemed he was asleep. Then,

_I will answer both of your questions Shadeslayer. Before the fall of the Riders, every Dragon Rider, and quite a few elves, as well as those scholars in Kuasta, knew where the Rock was. However, while they could detect the presence of an enormous source of magic, they could not access it, for they had neither the strength nor the skill to do so._

_After the Fall, we werecats realized that Galbatorix would try to capture the Rock's power, or that he would try to take it with him. Knowing this should never happen; every mature werecat was gathered in my father's company, for I was little more than a kitten at the time. Then we went out in the land, finding and destroying every last copy of books regarding the information on the Rock. We only kept fragments acknowledging its existence, but no more._

_Wouldn't that be quite difficult to do? _Eragon asked between pauses.

_Yes, although since Galbatorix had managed to burn so many books and their writers, he accidentally destroyed most of the texts himself during the early days of his newly formed Empire. _

Eragon said_, But wouldn't those who read—_

_Have remembered? Yes they should have. The humans, we did not have to worry about, for they would die in a matter of years. The elves were far more difficult. However I do not have the time or patience to explain how we fixed that. Just know, _Grimmr said before Eragon could protest. _Just know we left one person to study the story of the Rock._

_Who? _Eragon wondered.

_Think Eragon. Who has ceaselessly searched for the answers to the 'questions'?_

Eragon thought for a moment, and then said with a sudden realization, _Tenga, the lone man living near Melian! Has he figured out the answer yet?_

Grimmr said nothing, merely got up from Eragon's cot, stretched lazily then lithely walked towards the exit.

_Perhaps he has. You will need to go ask the right questions. My role in this is complete. Goodbye, and good luck Eragon, and you too as well Brightscales._

And with that, Grimmr departed, leaving Eragon to digest what had transpired.

_What do you make of this Saphira? Will we ever meet him again? _Eragon said with a sigh.

_I think if we are to fight Galbatorix, we must try to find the Rock as soon as possible. And if we need to contact the hermit to find out, then it is absolutely necessary. I do not know about the werecat, he could turn up at any given moment._

Eragon slumped into his cot and folded out a map of Alagaësia. _I agree, but look. From here to Melian is just as far as from here to Feinster. It would take two whole days to fly there, and we still might not know anything about it._

_It is a far distance, _Saphira agreed, _but we _need_ this in order to defeat Galbatorix. We need to discuss this with Nasuada, and perhaps even Angela._

_Of course, Angela trained and was taught with Tenga! _Eragon realized. _She might know some things about him that could be useful._

_If we are to take action, we must consult with them at once._

Eragon, anticipating what Saphira said, was already exiting his tent towards Nasuada's pavilion.

_Meet me there. I'll only slow you down._

Eragon nodded, then broke off into a brisk jog, which thanks to his elf characteristics, was still faster than most men could sprint. He arrived just as Saphira was beginning to land, her huge wings billowing the canvas of the surrounding tents.

_Do you think we can enter? _Eragon asked.

_Go and find out._

Eragon hesitated, and then entered the tent, the Nighthawks letting him pass. Nasuada looked up from a scroll she was studying, having finished conversing with Orrin, and greeted Eragon with a faint smile.

"Eragon what brings you here so suddenly?"

Eragon thought of the right words to say, and then told Nasuada about his meeting with Grimmr without revealing too much. After he had finished, Nasuada was quiet for a moment, then sighed deeply.

"Do you think this is the only way to defeat Galbatorix?"

Without hesitation, Eragon answered, "Yes. If what Solembum and Grimmr said is true, then this is the only real way I can become strong enough to defeat Galbatorix."

Nasuada sighed deeply and rubbed her temples. "How long will you need Eragon? We march in two days, and will probably take another two days to reach Belatona. There I can hold off fighting for maybe another day, two at the most. Will that be enough?"

Quickly calculating in his head, Eragon said, "That should be enough, I believe. We estimate at least two days flying to where the man is, perhaps a day at most to learn what we need, and then we shall fly directly to Belatona which should be another two, maybe three days."

Nodding, Nasuada said "That should be good. I only hope this trip goes well."

"Me too," Eragon replied, hesitating at what to ask next. "Have you decided who will go to Teirm?"

Nasuada, caught offhand by the question, said slowly, "Yes, I have already decided who to deploy. The leader of the expedition will be Jeod as he has lived in the city for a long time." Eragon nodded at this, it was expected. He was only mildly surprised when Nasuada said "I will also send Angela as she was a resident of the city as well and she could be helpful to the scheming of the attack."

Eragon asked, "So she will be in charge of the attack? I am also aware that you have not been to Teirm to know what it's like there."

Nasuada nodded "She will play an integral role, though how important will depend on how well she performs the tasks I have assigned her these past few days. Yes, but I have had Saphira share some of her experiences of the city, especially from up above. It is very well designed against an attack; I fear we may need more troops than I had anticipated."

Growing nervous, Eragon ventured a wary question, "Do you plan to send Roran or the Carvahall villagers there?"

Sensing Eragon's anxiousness, Nasuada said "I have not decided on Roran yet. He would be a great leader for them, but he is also needed here as well."

Nodding slowly, Eragon said "I agree, and I would enjoy having him here when we march on Dras Leona."

Nasuada looked surprised at this. "You would not be upset if I deployed him to Dras Leona?"

Eragon considered this for a moment, then replied "If it is necessary, then I won't be as upset. I would feel more comfortable to know how he fares during battle than somewhere faraway."

Nasuada nodded thoughtfully then said, "You have indeed matured since the mission to the dwarves, Eragon. I shall consider what you have said about this matter." There was silence after, which Nasuada broke saying, "What is your opinion on me sacrificing more men than necessary to take Belatona?"

Eragon replied thoughtfully, "I know the people won't like it, but you're right, we aren't short on wealth necessarily, but we are on things that are sorely needed for an army on the move. Feinster has a good store of supplies we could use but yes, it isn't enough for Dras Leona. Will we keep soldiers in Feinster as well in order to hold the city? The citizens remain loyal to Lady Lorana, who is still under oath by Galbatorix."

Nasuada appeared relieved by his answer and said "Thank you Eragon. I wasn't sure if it was the wisest decision. Yes, I will keep the wounded and any other soldiers who wish to remain to guard the city. If there isn't enough to keep watch, I will keep the villagers of Carvahall here as well. Many residents of the city have already fled for fear of retribution by the King. I also planned to search the city to root out and eliminate any magicians who could cause havoc. That was what I had planned for you, Arya, Blödhgarm, and the other elves to do before you came to me just now. I suppose they can do it without you; I highly doubt there will be that many powerful ones left."

Eragon nodded, that was what he would have done if he didn't have to leave. He thought keeping the villagers in the city would be a good idea. _Do you like what she has said, Saphira?_

_She has become a very wise leader. _Saphira answered. _I'm sure if Roran gets sent he will do just fine. And Arya and the other elves are more than enough to empty the city of stray spellcasters. _

Before Eragon could respond, Nasuada asked "Eragon how has Glaedr been so far? Has he recovered?"

Eragon was surprised at this, but then answered "I checked on him yesterday; he is still unwilling to talk." Eragon shuddered when he remembered how Glaedr roared and wailed, _Gone. Gone! GONE! _

"I understand. It's just that, as we get closer to Urû'baen, we will need his guidance and wisdom more and more."

Eragon nodded, and then said "We must depart. Next time I see you, it shall be at the gates of Belatona."

Nasuada nodded. "Indeed. Good luck, both of you, and may your trip be speedy and fare well."

With a small bow, Eragon exited the tent and said to Saphira, _I'll get some of my gear in my tent, and maybe say goodbye to Arya and Roran._

_I do not wish to leave our companions so soon._

_I don't want to leave either. Especially not from Arya. _

_Let us make it quick then._

Eragon quickly ran into his tent, packed all his main armor into a haversack, organized his remaining supplies in an orderly fashion, and then left to get a sack of food supplies for his journey. At the cooking area, he collected what he deemed necessary, and spent the rest of the hour collecting energy from the slaughtered animals into Brisingr as well as the Belt of Beloth the Wise. Then he climbed onto Saphira's back, saddlebags tightly secured, and the two flew to where they sensed Arya was located, who happened to be near a makeshift sparring arena. As Saphira landed, everyone took heed and gave her space. Arya trotted over to greet him with a jovial expression, but then, noticing his saddlebags and all of his armor, she grew serious and asked,

"Eragon, what are you preparing for?"

Through their mental link, Eragon quickly explained and showed all the events that transpired the past few hours. Arya's brow furrowed when she heard him talk about Tenga.

"Do you really think he has the answer? I did not think Grimmr and indeed the entirety of the werecats would do what they did."

Eragon nodded, "Yes, I was a bit surprised myself. I think he knows. He has scrolls and manuscripts not even Oromis had… Arya I just came to say goodbye and I apologize for having to leave so suddenly. If you could join us, I would be greatly happy, but our duties separate us from doing so and—" Eragon bit back what he was going to say next, fearing he would again reveal his deeper feelings towards her. _I cannot jeopardize our friendship _he thought to himself. Arya considered him for a moment, then said,

"I shall miss the company of you two as well. I think if we both fulfill our duties to the Varden, fortune may smile upon us and we may be reunited sooner than you think."

Eragon smiled at this, but thought, _Yes. On the fields of blood and gore._

The cacophony of swords clanging had returned as the warriors resumed sparring with each other. Bowing slightly, Eragon said, "I think I must now depart if I am to return on time."

Arya nodded "Of course Eragon. May good fortune rule over you Saphira. And a successful journey from both of you."

Eragon bowed again, then gave her a small smile and said. "You as well Arya. We shall be like the wind."

Then Saphira craned her neck so her eye was directly in front of Arya. After a short silence, Arya smiled and said "As you wish Brightscales. I will be fine."

Saphira then unfurled her wings and slowly began to rise. Eragon turned towards Arya and gave a small wave, before Saphira gave a powerful flap towards the direction of Melian. Before long the Varden encampment was but a tiny blur, and Eragon and Saphira were once again alone on their own journey.

**A/N: Edited 11/26/13**


	4. The Rock and the Vault

The two days' flight was mainly uneventful for Eragon and Saphira; they encountered only a few small villages passing below Saphira's azure wings. They stopped to rest when Saphira could no longer see what was ahead, and started again at the break of dawn, landing only when Eragon needed to relieve himself or when Saphira needed a drink. To save time, he ate his meals in the air. Towards the end of the second day, Saphira said that Melian was up ahead. Eragon recalled the vague area where he had encountered the hermit. _It was about two days walk up north from here. There should be a cluster of trees with five hills in a small area._

Saphira acknowledged by veering slightly to the north of Melian. After a few minutes she said _look below you and tell me if this is the right place._

Eragon stared intently at the small dots of trees with a definite gray smudge amongst them. _Yes that's the place. Land a half league away, then I'll tell you if it's safe to go._

_As you wish Little One, _Saphira replied.

As Eragon carefully ventured into the woodlands, he began to notice the faintly familiar signs. The tower still looked the same, and the garden remained nearly the same as it was when he last came. _It's as if I never left, _Eragon thought to himself as he approached. He didn't see Tenga anywhere outside so he slowly and stealthily entered the tower entrance.

_Careful… _Saphira warned.

"Tenga?" Eragon called out cautiously.

There came a distant crash, and then a faint rustling, as Eragon listened intently for danger. Then the long-bearded face of Tenga appeared around an old doorway. Tenga half squinted, half glared at Eragon,

"What have you come for, boy?"

Eragon was startled. It was obvious from his facial expression and tone of voice that Tenga had not remembered Eragon's visit from before. _Perhaps he was so enveloped in his quest for answers he did not take notice of other people,_ Eragon concluded. Then, assuming that Tenga had in fact not remembered him at all, he decided to reveal his true identity.

"Hello Tenga. My name is Eragon Shadeslayer and I come in search of something for the Varden." This wasn't strictly true, as he was searching it for himself, but he reasoned it would go by Tenga unnoticed.

"Varden eh? Never thought they'd survive the after the Fall." Tenga said tersely.

Eragon nodded, "Aye, they did. We were at Feinster, about to march on to capture Belatona."

Stepping out from behind the doorway, Tenga eyed him critically, then asked,

"So what have you come to seek?"

Eragon was about to say that Tenga had already asked that, then thought better of it and instead answered,

"I come to seek the answer."

Immediately an emotion Eragon could only identify as strange excitement leapt into Tenga's appearance.

"The answer! Do you seek it too?"

Eragon hesitated, unsure of what to say. "Er, I don't know if it is the same as yours. But I had hoped you might know the answer to it."

"… Well?" Tenga sounded just as gruff and impatient, although Eragon could see his manner had relaxed somewhat.

With a start, Eragon retold what he told Arya about how Grimmr said Tenga knew the secrets of the Rock of Kuthian.

After hearing this, Tenga half chuckled, half grumbled. "Ah yes, Grimmr, the noble but irritating little feline. Yes, I do know something about the Rock of Kuthian, and more importantly, the Vault of Souls." Tenga took a deep breath. "As you say, the Rock of Kuthian holds one of the most powerful sources of magic in existence. Few know of its existence, and fewer still know where it is.

"No record exists of when it was first created, although ancient texts say it existed at least in the time of the Grey Folk. Perhaps it was created with the creation of Alagaësia itself. Who knows? What's more important is that while it contains an immense amount of energy, there seems to be no way to access it, similar to hearing a thunderous commotion behind a locked door. That is, until I heard what Solembum told you. If what he says is true, then your 'name' is the only way to unlock this power, and it means the Vault of Souls and the Rock of Kuthian are in fact part of the same entity, contrary to what we had previously believed. I believe this 'name' to perhaps be your true name. You do know it, yes?"

Eragon was shocked by what Tenga had said. _How could my name, even my true name, be the key to a mystery spanning back perhaps thousands of years? And how had Solembum known this to be true? _He wondered. He was surprised too at how much Tenga had spoken, unlike their previous encounter.

_Perhaps werecats are gifted with abilities beyond their understanding, as with us dragons and also Blagden with his foresight. _Saphira said gently. _Do you think it's safe for me to join you?_

_Not yet, let's get some more information, just to be safe. _Eragon replied.

_Very well. Do not take too long._ Saphira said with a sigh.

Realizing that he had not yet replied to Tenga, who was looking intently at Eragon's face, waiting for an answer, Eragon refocused his attention to the task at hand.

"No, I'm afraid I do not know what my true name is." Eragon answered.

"Hmm. Pity." Tenga replied with a small sigh. "Mayhaps you know what it might be?"

Eragon shook his head, "I couldn't even I wanted to."

Tenga looked disappointed. "Shame. Well I suppose I should tell you at least where the Rock is, and what to do when you do figure out your true name.

"The Rock of Kuthian lies on the southernmost tip of Illium. Its presence has attracted wild and strange creatures, drawn to its power. The island is treacherous; it has sheer sides and jagged cliffs. It was only a miracle the monks who discovered it managed it to survive. Because no one has unlocked the power within, no one knows what this power is capable of, or what it will do when it is unlocked. "

Eragon fervently hoped that this magic would be controllable in order to have any hope of defeating Galbatorix.

"If I could somehow harness this power, what do you think I would be capable of?"

Tenga emitted a bark of laughter at this. "Well if didn't kill you, then I suppose you would have a great deal of energy indeed."

Eragon's neck prickled. _Enough power to kill me? Could that even be possible, even if I had a limitless amount of Eldunarí? Saphira?_

_Perhaps it would be similar as when I have my strange moments of magic. Unbelievable amounts of energy, and beyond my control, _she answered.

_Perhaps… although I will need to be able to control it if we are to defeat Galbatorix. Who knows how many Eldunarí he has in his possession?_

_Even if he has a hundred, or even more, it does not matter, for he cannot properly fight without having to leave their presence._ Saphira responded.

_True, but in our current state, he could probably destroy us before we ever reached Urû'baen._

_That is precisely what we came here for Little One, _Saphira said curtly. _To find out how we can become strong enough to defeat the King. Now continue learning as much as possible about this Rock of Kuthian. I wonder where this island of Illium is._

_We will have to consult a map, _Eragon agreed. He focused back on Tenga again only to find him sifting through his endless masses of books and scrolls. "What are you doing?" Eragon asked, unintentionally blunt.

Tenga abruptly stopped his search, looked up with a disapproving look on his face, although beneath his wooly mass of facial hair, Eragon couldn't be too sure, and answered, "Trying to find some more information to aid you on this quest. I wish to know about it as much as you do. Now if you don't mind helping, then join."

Eragon had a blank expression for a moment, then quickly recovered and answered, "Of course, Tenga." Picking up the nearest book, Eragon scanned it quickly to find anything useful about the Rock of Kuthian, or details at what his true name could be. Finding nothing useful, he gently tossed it to one side and continued his search.

By now, the late afternoon had faded into evening, and Tenga had lit a fire and procured some loaves of bread and a jelly of a fruit Eragon couldn't identify, but which tasted delicious. As the night wore on, the two men stacked piles of books that could be helpful, and ones that wouldn't. Eragon couldn't find anything useful on the Rock of Kuthian, so he instead focused his attention of the large store of compendiums Tenga had in his possession. Sifting through the pages of one of them, Eragon found some lists of true names that he did recognize, but also others he did not, and these he studied in great care. Some of the words Eragon found intriguing he whispered aloud and he decided to focus on then words that might prove useful as spells he might use in battle. In this way, he found a new use for the word _lightning_ and a spell that would turn things into stone, a spell he later tried on a small twig outside the tower.

Eventually it was so late into the night that Eragon had lost all notion of time. Rising to his feet, he addressed Tenga,

"Tenga, it is late, and I need to rest. I shall go back to where I stayed for the night and rejoin you in the morning."

Tenga gave no inclination that he heard, merely opening a new scroll and scanning it intently. Eragon quietly slipped through the doorway, and silently retreated to where Saphira lay dozing.

_Find anything useful? _She asked sleepily.

_Not really, but I hope Tenga had more success. _Eragon answered tiredly, lying down next to Saphira's belly.

_Regardless, at least we know where it is. Did you figure out where the island is?_

Unhappily, Eragon told her how the island was around the cluster of islands by Beirland and Nía. _It would take a week to fly there, _he finished with a sigh.

_Do not worry; we won't need the extra energy to defeat Belatona. Perhaps we can leave with the convoy for Teirm and part ways there._

_Yes. That is a good idea. _Eragon said, already starting to fall asleep.

Chuckling, Saphira placed her wing over Eragon's tired form, and murmured

_Goodnight, Little One._

Eragon woke with a start.

Unsure of what time it was, he tapped Saphira's wing, and she lifted it to reveal the early morning sky.

_I was just about to wake you, _she told him.

Standing up, he belted up his sword and quickly made his way back towards the elven tower. Upon reaching it, he saw Tenga pacing back and forth by his garden. Noticing Eragon's arrival, he exclaimed,

"At last! I thought you'd never awaken."

Judging by the new bags below his eyes, Eragon guessed that Tenga had not slept at all in his search. He asked, "So what did you find out about the Rock of Kuthian?"

Excitedly, Tenga picked up an older, well-worn scroll, unfurled it to a point, and read,

"The Rock of Kuthian was believed to be created during the time when the Grey Folk created the ancient language. It was meant to seal the Vault of Souls, for at the time, the Vault had no restraints, making it prone to unpredictable and treacherous magical bursts. Less is known about the Vault than even the Rock itself. Some say it holds the souls of those who had moved on in the world. Others say it contains all the spirits of the land that were captured during the Rock's creation. Regardless of what it contains, this Vault holds such an immense power, that the Grey Folk entombed it so that no one could use it for evil. After the Folk faded away, knowledge of its existence faded as well, and as of this writing, there is no known record of its location. –Gormand the Monk"

Eragon pondered what he had heard. _This must explain the reason for the power held within the Rock. No wonder so few people know about it, it was in the time of the Grey Folk! _Eragon recalled what he had learned of the Grey Folk from Oromis. _I wonder how this Vault might have been created._

_Ask him about finding your true name, _Saphira said suddenly. As Eragon did what Saphira had asked, Tenga's eyebrows furrowed and a barely discernible frown appeared on his features.

"That was a far harder task. I searched through my collection of true names, and I gathered a small list to see if they were close."

Tenga then spoke the words he had on his list, and each time he asked, Eragon shook his head, expecting a reaction similar to Sloan's when he had uttered the butcher's true name, but not receiving it. Looking disappointed, and rather flustered, Tenga then said,

"I am afraid I cannot help you there then. I suppose this journey then is over until you do."

Not wanting to end so abruptly, Eragon suggested, "Perhaps if you let me borrow your collection, I may discover my true name myself."

After a long while of considering this, Tenga slowly nodded, saying, "This is agreeable, but on two conditions. Firstly, you must return them as soon as you discover your true name. Second, if you do unlock the Rock of Kuthian, you must record as much as you can about its whereabouts and what power the Rock has. You must swear this to me in the Ancient Language as well."

Eragon nodded an affirmative. "Aye, those terms are agreeable." Then he did what was asked, and swore to return once he had unlocked the Rock of Kuthian.

Satisfied with this, Tenga then carefully handed each of his seven compendiums, as well as the scroll containing the information about the Vault of Souls. Respectfully bowing, Eragon cradled the books with the utmost care, and slowly walked back to where Saphira stay. After a few paces, he turned to find Tenga already enveloped in his garden, mindlessly working to clean the ever present weeds and care for the tender shoots of the plant to grow, saying something Eragon couldn't hear. Eragon turned back around and made for the temporary campground.

_I have the books, _Eragon said to an eagerly waiting blue dragon. He quickly shared the details of what had occurred. Saphira eyed him with her huge blue eye, blinking occasionally with an audible _snick_.

_I am glad. I suppose the oath was necessary, although you know we can't return until the King is dead._

_I know, _Eragon answered, _but at least we now know we have a chance._

_Yes, we do have that. Come. Let us be off._

Eragon placed the tomes of knowledge in his remaining empty saddlebags, but then stopped and scooped a small depression in the ground.

_Now? Can't it wait?_

_I can't do it while we're flying, and I suppose it's been long enough. _Drawing up his energy, Eragon drew up water to fill the small hole and whispered,

"Draumr kópa"

The water blurred, then cleared and Eragon found himself staring a huge mass of people, with a young man mostly in his view. The man looked thoroughly surprised at Eragon's presence, before realizing who he was looking at and called,

"My Lady Nasuada, it is Eragon Shadeslayer, with something to say."

Eragon heard some faint conversation, then a flurry of movement, and then found himself face to face with the ebony woman. She had a surprised, but slightly relieved expression, an expression she quickly masked behind a wall of impassiveness.

"Eragon, has your trip fared well?"

Eragon answered that it had, and quickly summarized the details of his trip. Looking pleased, if a bit troubled, Nasuada replied,

"That is indeed good news. Are you returning to join us at Belatona? We are drawing near, and the men grow ever restless. At least marching keeps them in check. I fear I may not forestall them for long."

"Yes we are about to leave," Eragon reassured her, "have you sent the convoy to Teirm yet?"

Nasuada shook her head. "No, I haven't decided who to send. I have kept some soldiers in Feinster though, and left them in charge of the city, and to find some good shipbuilders. The amount of troops I send will depend on how many we lose trying to take Belatona, and whether you have harnessed your potential power when we do take the city."

"Aye, I hope I have by then. If you will excuse me, but I shall leave for Belatona as soon as I can."

Nasuada dipped her head. "Of course Eragon. Fly fast Saphira, if you can hear. Our men need you."

Eragon ended the link, refilled his waterskin in the filled depression, and let the rest seep back into the ground. He then climbed aboard Saphira, who launch into the air with a powerful stroke of her wings, and raced towards Belatona, the elven tower rapidly fading into the distance.


	5. The Fragility of Life

**Happy August everyone! Well actually it's not a happy event for those of us who are still in school, cause you know what August means. *awwwww:(* But anyways, guess what? You're about to read the longest chapter I have written so far! **

**As ever, if you read this, please at least try to review! Thanks. **

**Well, this is what you all came for! Battle time! :) Well actually, before that, there's still something to be done:**

**Note! i apologize to my reviewers who spotted a crucial error in my writing. I have faithfully changed it so that it'll satisfy you all!**

* * *

><p>While in flight on Saphira, Eragon studiously examined the compendiums Tenga had lent him, trying to discover anything useful into discovering his true name. Having gone through three of the books without success, though he had discovered new uses of magic, he was partway through the fourth on the second day of their return when Saphira announced tiredly,<p>

_The Jiet River is below us._

Eragon peered down to confirm this observation. _That means Belatona is drawing near._

Saphira silently agreed, and surely enough, when the sun was at its highest point, the immense disk of Lake Leona appeared on the horizon, with a blurry blotch of Belatona growing ever larger as they drew nearer. Closer to the Jiet River laid the encampment of the Varden. Veering her wings towards the rebels, Saphira flew to where Nasuada's tent was located. As the pair passed through the air, there came a great cheer from the Varden below, hailing the arrival of their Rider and his dragon. Eragon's throat caught with emotion. He could never quite get used to the fact that he was once a simple farm boy, and now the shining beacon of hope amongst the oppressed.

_This is what it means to be a Rider._

Landing next to Nasuada's pavilion, Eragon found Arya, Blödhgarm and the other elves, as well as a few dwarves, including Orik, waiting for him at the entrance. Blödhgarm approached him first,

"How did your trip fare, Shadeslayer?" Orik and the others murmured agreement; they wished to know as well.

Eragon, unsure of what to say, hesitated, and then said, "I have found what I was searching for."

Arya raised an eyebrow at this, while the others conveyed their satisfaction and relief. Blödhgarm bowed his head and said in his lilting tone of voice, "I am pleased to hear this."

One of the elves suggested, "Perhaps we should now inform Nasuada of this." Everyone else agreed and proceeded to enter the tent of Nasuada's, with Eragon entering last along with Arya. Nasuada was discussing something with Jörmundur when she noticed Eragon's entrance, immediately dismissed Jörmundur, stood and said in a relieved voice,

"Eragon you have returned just in time. We made camp late last night, and today are finishing up our preparations. Tomorrow, we march onto Belatona."

Eragon had expected as much. _Tomorrow Saphira, we attack._

_I heard. Do you think Nasuada has anything in particular planned for us?_

_I doubt it, unless Murtagh shows up. _Eragon replied, _Now, you should get some sleep for tomorrow._

_You won't need help finding your tent?_

_I'll be fine; I can find a guide after this._ He said back.

_Very well Little One. Do not take too long._

Eragon nodded at Nasuada's words. "Do you need me and Saphira to do anything?"

Nasuada shook her head. "Not unless others require you of something. I only command you to give your best in taking the city. That goes for everyone in this room."

Eragon and the others in the tent confirmed Nasuada's command. Looking satisfied, Nasuada said, "You are all dismissed. Go, and prepare for tomorrow's events."

Exiting the tent, Eragon waited for the others to leave before he walked in stride next to Arya.

"Your journey was safe?" she asked.

Eragon nodded. "Should it have gone otherwise?"

"No, only that I am glad it was a success. The soldiers here were disheartened at your sudden absence."

A short silence ensued afterwards, which Eragon broke, saying, "You did not seem to be satisfied with the answer I gave the others."

Arya nodded slightly. "Indeed. I was curious as to what actually occurred."

Eragon then told her about meeting with Tenga, and learning about the Rock of Kuthian, and finally the compendiums he had brought to find his true name. Upon hearing this, Arya abruptly stopped and gripped Eragon's arm firmly.

"And you believe this to be true? I was not aware this could be possible."

Eragon, surprised yet again by the bruising strength of her grip, merely replied, "Yes I didn't believe it at first either."

Arya looked at him for a moment, then released her hold on him and said softly, "We finally have a chance then to end this war."

Eragon replied equally as softly, "Aye. Then we can finally be united with the ones we love."

An uncomfortable silence, longer than before, followed, with Eragon wondering if he had suggested too much. He was filled with relief when Arya replied, "Yes that as well."

Unsure of what to say next, Eragon resumed walking, Arya following suit a moment afterwards. Finding his voice again, Eragon stated, "All I need is to discover my true name."

Arya was quiet a moment, then said, "A quest not so easily undertaken. Much introspection and self-discovery will be necessary."

Surprised at this depth of wisdom, Eragon said, "Do you know your own true name then?"

The elf princess shook her head, saying, "No, nor do I wish to know. Such knowledge would only prove useful to our enemies. Your situation however, is different."

Eragon thought on this for a moment, then asked, "Could you guess what my true name is then?"

Arya, without breaking her stride, turned to face Eragon and scrutinized his face intently.

"I do not know for sure. But I would never try to without your permission. And even then I might not for it would alienate us from each other, for who wishes to be around someone who could control them with a word? Think of Murtagh and Thorn under Galbatorix's control or Sloan under yours. Would you want that between us, Eragon?"

Eragon was deeply disturbed by the truth in her words. _She's right, _he realized,_ that would destroy our friendship._ He shook his head firmly. "No Arya, I wouldn't want that, even if that were the only way to unlock the Vault. Our friendship is more important than even that. I merely wondered if you could, for Oromis said he would be able to." He finished, uncertain if she would take his words well.

Arya nodded, "As you say, Eragon, I might, but I wouldn't try it. It is a journey you should do yourself, if possible. I am still curious though, about those books Tenga had given you. If it would be convenient with you, I would like to study these as well, after this battle."

Eragon agreed, "Of course, that is, if we make it through this battle. I hope it doesn't end up like Feinster." He was talking about the Shade, which Arya showed she understood, nodding sharply,

"Yes we may not be so fortunate next time."

By now he had reached the cluster of tents he assumed to be near Arya's. She stopped at a certain one, similar to the rest, then turned and asked Eragon,

"If you aren't too busy, I would be pleased if you had tea with me and discussed this some more, Shadeslayer."

Eragon hesitated for a moment, thinking of Saphira, but decided it would be okay. _Who knows how much time we'll have together after this battle? _

"I am not held with any duties, and of course I would like to stay Arya, we may not have any times like this afterwards."

Entering her tent, he was surprised to find her tent was like any other soldier in the Varden. A small cot lay on one side, with her bag of supplies in one corner and her bow, arrows, and sword in the other. Removing a small kettle from among the small supply bag the Varden had given her, she filled it with water, then placed them on a bed of old coals, lighting them with magic. As they waited for the water to boil, Eragon faced Arya and said quietly in the Ancient Language,

"Have you fared well those days that Saphira and I were gone?"

Arya said nothing at first, then answered, "I believe that I am okay, although I am better now that you and Saphira have returned."

Eragon was relieved. Showing this with a small smile, he replied, "For that I am glad."

A quiet peace settled in between the pair, until the kettle started whistling in protest, and Arya gently poured her and Eragon a small cup of mint tea. Eragon sipped the tea, enjoying its warmth yet cool, soothing flavor. He looked at Arya, who had an emotionless expression while staring into the glowing coals. After a few sips of tea, her expression softened, revealing a calm yet peaceful expression Eragon had not noticed before. The expression only slightly changed when Eragon asked,

"Arya, did you wish me to stay to actually discuss my true name, or merely as someone to talk to?"

Arya's lips curved into a smile and said, "Perhaps I did Eragon. Are you saying you wished to stay to discuss your true name, or only to be in my presence?

Eragon's cheeks flushed, and he felt the tips of his pointed ears turn pink. He smiled at her statement also. "Would it be wrong to say it was for both reasons?"

Arya sipped her tea once more, before saying, "I suppose not, Eragon. As you may know, I am often alone when I walk, and you and Saphira's presence is greatly appreciated."

Eragon nodded, "I understand. And if ever you need me or Saphira, for whatever reason, just ask us of our presence and we shall come."

Arya nodded as well. "I know Eragon. And I thank you for it."

They continued sipping their tea till they had finished, and then Arya said that both of them had better get ready for tomorrow's calamities. Not wishing to leave, Eragon nevertheless respectfully bowed and said,

"Of course, Arya."

Finding a page, who looked very nervous in the Rider's presence, Eragon asked to be led to where his tent was set up. Leading the way, the page showed Eragon to his tent, where Saphira lay, dozing, next to his small tent. Thanking the page, who scampered off elsewhere, Eragon sank into his cot, grateful for the rest. Storing the rest of his energy into the Belt of Beloth the Wise, Aren, and the pommel of Brisingr, Eragon tiredly then proceeded to set up the proper wards around himself, Saphira, and a few around Arya and Nasuada, just in case. Eyelids drooping, he sat and rested until he was recovered enough to stand up and exit the tent. He wandered around the unfamiliar campground, until he managed to wander into one of the kitchens. Hungry after storing his energy, he dug into a loaf of freshly baked bread, some vegetables and he ignored the strip of beef the cooks had made for the thousands of hungry soldiers in the evening. Washing it all down with a tankard of mead, Eragon felt much more satisfied at decided to explore the encampment further.

After finding nothing of interest, apart from passing soldiers, who recognized him and waved, "Hail, Shadeslayer!" to which Eragon waved back, Eragon retraced his steps back into his tent and decided to rest for the battle the next day.

* * *

><p><em>Wake up Eragon<em>

Eragon groaned, shifting his place in bed, still not fully awake.

_Awaken Eragon! The march is about to begin._

Eragon woke with a start, sitting abruptly up in bed, letting the previous day's events wash over him. He smiled drowsily as he recalled his time with Arya, and then realizing what needed to be done, he shook himself awake, left his cot and proceeded to do a short version of the Rimgar. Muscles sufficiently stretched, Eragon went out of his tent to Saphira. Removing his armor from her saddlebags, he slipped into his chain backed hauberk, lacing up the small leather straps securing it on his torso. He strapped on his greaves and arm bracers, with his fighting boots on last. He also had on padded leather chaps, providing useful layer of soft armor.

_Hurry, Little One, the others are ready to leave, _Saphira said impatiently.

_I'm ready!_ Eragon quickly leapt onto Saphira, noticing she already had on her dragon-armor. When he asked, she replied,

_Arya helped me put these on._

Eragon nodded, feeling a small pang of jealousy, ignored it, and then strapped his legs into the leather thongs built into the saddle. With a powerful leap, Saphira launched herself into the air, and in moments, they were astride the Varden who had begun marching in formation towards Belatona. The main force approached from the center, with Orrin's cavalry coming from the left, and a smaller band of Urgals led by Nar Garzhvog from the right. The dwarves were gathered in a group towards the rear of the main horde, their clan symbols represented on small flags. Eragon cast his mind out to find the location of Nasuada. Finding her, he relayed the location to Saphira, who gently glided to her location, in the middle of the Varden. The soldiers who spotted him made space for the Rider, and gave shouts of "Hail Rider!" or "Brightscales!"

Landing gracefully beside Nasuada, who was riding Battlestorm, Eragon asked, "Will you join us today in battle?"

Nasuada smiled and answered, "Perhaps Eragon, I think my wounds have sufficiently healed, although I might go easy for the most part. There is no point in me dying unnecessarily or slowing the Varden down. If Murtagh and Thorn do not appear, then it will be you who will lead on our soldiers."

Eragon nodded, saying, "Then I shall go and lead them as you wish."

Finding the location of Roran, who was near the front of the march, he again landed to the same greetings as before. Roran, looking surprised, said, "What brings you here, Eragon?"

"Is it not wrong to enter battle with my cousin?"

Roran laughed saying back, "Perhaps, but I thought you might want to fight alongside the elves, or Arya." The men around him chuckled at this, and Eragon's cheeks flushed. "Don't pretend your walking with Arya hasn't gone unnoticed." Roran teased, although not as loud as before.

Eragon smiled sheepishly, then asked, "How fares Katrina?"

Roran's expression suddenly grew serious, and he said, "She is fine, although she still fears for our baby's health."

Eragon was shocked, "She marched with us from Feinster?"

Roran shook his head, "She stayed in Feinster with some of the other villagers like Elain, Gertrude, and Birgit."

Eragon nodded and was about to respond when a soldier yelled,

"Cavalry!"

Eragon's eyes whipped up ahead, and sure enough, a faint smudge, growing every larger, drew near. A large cloud of dust was forming behind the charge. Eragon and Saphira were about to fly out to attack them, when he heard one of Orrin's magicians say mentally,

_King Orrin wishes to deal with these soldiers himself, Shadeslayer. Although if it appears we are outmatched, then by all means intercede._

Eragon relayed that he had heard, and said to all within earshot,

"King Orrin and his cavalry will deal with these soldiers himself, although we may attack if he needs help." Eragon understood the point of why both parties attacked with horses. Inside the city, with narrow streets and houses, the advantage of the cavalry would be lost, and so it would be better to deploy them out here. Eragon also conveyed the message to Arya, Blödhgarm, and Nasuada's magicians. They said they understood and Eragon refocused his attention on the battle at hand. Casting a spell he had learned from one of the compendiums, he closed his eyes, and then reopened them, his vision now magnified threefold. The faint cloud of dust was now clear, and Eragon could clearly see what was occurring. The horsemen from Belatona were charging directly at the main force, while Orrin's forces were approaching almost perpendicular to them, where they would be weakest. Orrin's front row of cavalry lowered their long spears and charged full on into the side.

Chaos ensued. The cavalry of Belatona was broadsided, and a massive amount of horses and men toppled into the ground. As Orrin's main charge continued, a smaller formation of horses broke off on each side, taking care of the remaining soldiers. It seemed that an easy victory was going to happen when Eragon witnessed a huge rush of magic, so much he gasped in shock, as one of the Belatona soldiers raised his hand and a giant fireball was launched from his hand, striking twelve of Orrin's horsemen, killing them instantly. Then the mysterious soldier-magician launched smaller fireballs into Orrin's mass, killing random soldiers with each blast. Horses panicked, running about without heed to their riders, who struggled to keep them in control. However, Orrin's strategy would not go unsuccessful. Though taking heavy losses from the magician, his cavalry soon had killed all but the magician who pranced around on his horse, dodging spear thrusts and shooting fireballs at cavalry. Finally one spear got through, goring him in the side. The magician toppled over, maimed, and struggled to draw his sword before another spear thrust finished him off. When his cavalry trotted off back into formation, the Varden gave a great cheer, as yet unaware of the heavy losses taken. He released his spell on his vision which blurred then cleared back to normal again.

Eragon asked Saphira with worry, _Who was that magician? How could he be that powerful?_

_I don't know Eragon, perhaps he was like the Twins, abnormally powerful for a human. He is now dead though, so it does not matter._

Eragon nodded, lost in thought until he heard a faint roar coming from the city walls. Enhancing his vision with his spell again, Eragon watched in horror as another mass of soldiers, perhaps ten thousand strong, marching out of the city gates. Eragon quickly relayed the news to Nasuada, who said sternly _Now is your duty to lead them Eragon. I leave you and Saphira responsible for the outcome of this next battle._

_As you wish, my lady._

Eragon restored his vision, and then announced,

"Belatona troops are advancing. Nasuada has left me in charge of defeating them."

There came a clamor of voices as soldiers talked amongst themselves. Saphira leapt in front of the entire Varden, halting them. Drawing upon his magic, Eragon, murmured a spell to increase the volume of his voice.

"People of the Varden, I have stopped you to inform you that the forces of Belatona approach. A mass about ten thousand strong have advanced upon us. I am confident that we can defeat them with the right planning. Orrin's remaining cavalry will charge from the side, distracting them while we advance. From the other side, Nar Garzhvog and his Urgals will attack from the other side. Remember how we had defeated the Empire before on the Burning Plains. There force was tenfold of this one, and yet we won nonetheless." He released his spell after he finished.

The Varden gave a thunderous cheer at this, morale greatly boosted. Eragon, now satisfied, asked for Roran to step forward. Leaning over his saddle, he whispered into his cousin's ear,

"Though I am in charge of this battle, I would appreciate your leadership where I am not present. They may respect me and obey me, but they adore you and have complete faith in you."

His cousin nodded, "Of course Eragon, though I would never undermine your leadership."

Eragon smiled, clapped his cousin on his back, and let him return to his position. He and Saphira turned to face the coming charge. He asked Saphira innocently, _Shall we make our presence known?_

Saphira responded by leaning forward and giving a deafening roar and a huge blast of flame from her jaws. The Varden gave an equally loud shout, and charged with ferocity. Eragon and Saphira allowed a few rows of soldiers to advance first, and then charged, keeping pace with the soldiers. The two forces collided with an enormous crash, blade on blade, shield against shield, and cries of pain and death throughout. Eragon and Saphira fought in unison, Eragon hacking and slicing with Brisingr, a sapphire blur of death. Saphira dealing withering blasts of fire, cooking entire rows of soldiers with her cerulean flames. If a soldier got too close to Eragon when he was unaware, she would pounce with her jaws, tearing them in midair and throwing their carcass back into the horde of soldiers. In this way Eragon and Saphira, combined, were a blue blur of death and destruction that nobody could defeat. Eragon had brief glimpses of Roran, roaring and smashing soldiers at will with his hammer. A fine red mist descended around Eragon every time he struck, but the soldiers kept marching forward regardless. Out of breath after such an onslaught, Eragon hung behind Saphira as she unleashed her torrent of fire, forcing those who weren't burned to death to retreat. This allowed some Varden soldiers to rush forward, leaping over the smoldering pile of bodies, to continue Eragon and Saphira's forward progress.

Now that he and Saphira had time for a brief respite, he glanced around the battlefield. There was lots of carnage, but he could tell the Varden were undeniably winning. He saw Orrin's cavalry continuing to make charges, then retreating, then continuing their skirmish yet again. On the other side, he saw just a flurry of dark movement, as Urgals and Kull tore through the ranks, hacking soldiers to pieces, or sometimes even just tearing them apart with their bare hands. Their ferocity and power awed Eragon, even though he could have easily accomplished the same feat as well.

The battle was not without its difficulties. Eragon had several cuts where his wards had weakened. His left leg was bruised when a dying soldier desperately struck him with the pommel of his sword. Saphira was for the most part unharmed, although their armor tore at the insides of her mouth. Her wings also had some puncture wounds from a stray arrow or spear. Eragon healed his and her wounds, drawing energy from the Belt of Beloth the Wise.

"Shadeslayer, you are sorely needed on the western flank!" a soldier cried, relaying the message from the captain in the said area. Eragon indicated he had heard, and Saphira launched herself out of the battle, quickly flying high to avoid the arrows, and made her way to the problematic side. Eragon quickly saw what was wrong. The Varden here were pressed back, despite help from Orrin's horsemen, by yet another magician. This magician did not kill the Varden, merely broke up their formation. He uttered a spell causing the ground underneath the Varden to become slippery, causing the soldiers to slip and fall, allowing the Empire's soldiers to make easy work of them. He also cast a spell causing his entire being to become illuminated in a great light, blinding those who watched and thus dooming them to a quick death. Some soldiers further back in the Varden's ranks fired arrows at him but his wards deflected them to his sides. Eragon drew an arrow from his quiver Islanzadí had given him, drew an arrow and fired. Surely enough, the arrow was deflected before it reached its target. Drawing another arrow, Eragon drew it and shouted, "Brisingr!" The arrow erupted into blue flames, and he fired his missile upon the magician.

_Boom!_

The arrow exploded ten feet from the magician, and he was thrown back, head over heels, and he lay still. Eragon sagged in his saddle from the resulting draw upon his energy, restored it a little from the Belt, and landed near the front of the charge. When the Empire's soldiers approached with shouts of anger, Saphira unleashed her wall of flames, forcing them to jump back, glaring at the dragon. The Varden cheered, and charged the Empire's soldiers with such ferocity that many retreated and tripped over one another, allowing the Varden to make short work of them.

Eragon smiled grimly at the grisly work he had accomplished so far, overhead, there flew a huge mass of gore crows and other carrion birds.

And so the morning faded into early afternoon.

At this point the Varden had diminished the opposing forces so greatly that many began to retreat, only to be brought down by arrows and horsemen. Such was the annihilation that Eragon soon found himself fighting alongside Nar Garzhvog and two other Kull. The Urgal leader nodded in Eragon's direction.

"How fare thee, Firesword?"

Eragon replied between blows, "It goes well, Nar Garzhvog. How fare your fellow Urgals?"

The Urgal laughed in his unique way, "There are many of them, but they are so easy to kill, you humans."

Eragon said nothing, merely continued cutting through the enemies ranks. He decapitated a soldier, continued his swing, and hit the side of another, mortally wounding him. Nar Garzhvog was right, they were easily killed. _I won't allow the fragility of their lives to distance myself from them._ But he couldn't help thinking about the Urgal's words. Come to think of it, most of this battle was like a dance to Eragon, darting about with lightning speed and his blows controlled and calm. He could tell his elf speed frightened the other soldiers; they only perished easier because of it.

Saphira was no different. Her razor sharp talons easily cut through the soldiers' armor and shields, and her fire was their biggest fear. If they're spear thrusts weren't quick enough, she would knock them aside or simply grab the spear and yank the soldier into the air, slaying him before he even hit the ground.

Surprisingly, Eragon encountered few magicians throughout the battle, and those that he did encounter were nowhere near as strong as the fireball throwing magician in the cavalry charge. He saw some magicians battling around the battlefield, both unmoving, bodies twitching, before one of them fell dead, but Eragon was not attacked at all. _Perhaps they have decided to try to eliminate as many magicians as possible, making it more difficult for us to protect our soldiers, _he decided. _Either that or their stronger magicians are still in the city._

By early evening the Varden had completely eliminated the Belatona soldiers. They did not take prisoners, nor did any of the soldiers ask for mercy, simply stepping forward towards their inevitable doom. _How brave, _Eragon thought to himself, _or foolish._ Then he noticed there was but a small group of soldiers remaining, surrounded by the Varden. Eragon and Saphira quickly made their way towards that group, the Varden soldiers parting to make way.

"You may kill us but you will never take our city!" One of the soldiers snarled. Then he noticed Eragon and Saphira. "Rider! You shall never pass the gates of Belatona! You may kill us now, but those of us in the city will never fall in defeat! You shall all wither and fade away never to rise and challenge our great king!"

Eragon was silent for a moment, then said, "My soldiers, you may back off. Saphira and I will handle this." He then turned to face the group of determined soldiers. "Will you submit and be held as prisoners? We shall not treat you poorly, for you are our friends, our brothers." The soldier simply made a rude gesture at Eragon, then spat, "I would never consider bowing down to such terms! The Varden are a pack of wild, dirty animals, or worse. Come then, O rider and die!"

Eragon said nothing, except he took two steps forward. Then drawing Brisingr with speed only an elf could possess, he cut at the soldiers legs, amputating them, then swung Brisingr down upon the defeated man, killing him instantly. At the same moment, Saphira pounced, catching two unfortunate soldiers in her ivory talons, and one in her jaws. Eragon then leapt from the corpse and whirled Brisingr around in a blinding flash of carnage, cutting through sword blades, shield, chain mail, and flesh as if they were butter. The soldiers cheered when Eragon and Saphira cut through the last remaining men, and Eragon sheathed Brisingr, climbed onto Saphira's back, and said,

"Let us now return to Nasuada, to await her orders." The men around him agreed and together then wandered back to where Nasuada was, awaiting her instructions. Saphira landed next to Nasuada, who also had next to her, Arya, who was uninjured, Eragon silently thanked the gods. The elf princess looked at Eragon with slight concern,

"Are you hurt Eragon, Saphira?"

Eragon shook his head, saying, "Only small injuries, but no longer."

"For that I am glad." Arya said, relieved. Both Eragon and Arya turned to face Nasuada, to listen to her orders. The ebony lady turned to face her soldiers; men, dwarves, and Urgals, and said proudly, "We have been victorious today," this drew a noisy cheer, "but as you can see, Belatona is still in possession of the Empire. Heal your wounds, tend to the fallen, and at sundown, we shall march on the city gates."

The soldiers gave another great cheer, then settled down and made their way back to their encampment unless they had things to do; soldiers picking up weapons or shields they had lost in battle, archers finding whatever arrows lay intact, and others mourning their fallen comrades. Eragon searched for Roran with his mind, was relieved to find him still alive, then went to where he was. He had a cut on his right leg, which a magician was trying to mend, but couldn't.

"It's alright Carn, just try again. Focus—" Roran noticed Eragon's arrival. "Eragon! You made it through the battle!"

Eragon smiled at this then asked, "Yes, just. What happened to your leg?"

Roran grimaced then muttered, "Oh this? It's nothing really. I think it was attacked so much, your wards failed and a cut got through."

Eragon then offered to heal it to which Roran responded, "Oh, sure, I mean if that isn't too difficult. I—"

Eragon interrupted, "I'll be fine. Carn, may I?"

Carn stepped aside, appearing greatly relieved and stuttered, "I'll go… help others…" Then he staggered and went off towards the main force. Eragon then studied the wound on Roran's leg. It wasn't too deep but it ran from his ankle almost past his knee. Drawing upon the Belt of Beloth the Wise, Eragon murmured,

"Waíse heill."

Within moments, Roran's leg was repaired back again. He gratefully said, "Thank you, Eragon. Now I must go see how many of my men survived." He hobbled; experimenting with his fixed leg, and then walked confidently to where his men might be located. Eragon shook his head in wonder; he was humbled by how determined and selfless his cousin could be. He climbed onto Saphira yet again and landed to where Arya was, and Eragon asked cordially,

"Need a lift?"

Arya looked amused by this, but hesitated, and in the end she quickly leapt onto Saphira, hugging her arms around Eragon's waist. Then Saphira sprung into the air and made their back to the Varden's encampment, glad for the brief respite before they had to enter battle again, this time to actually take the city itself.

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><p><strong>Most of you are thinking, "Finally KuldrOroAurum (what a silly name!) finished the chapter!" and I have to agree with you, this one took a while. 5k+ words! I am physically (poor fingers) and mentally tired.<strong>

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><p><strong>Reply to <strong>_**paolinifansimon: **_**I am really sorry to hear that, I hope you get your laptop fixed soon :) I was planning on that, although I'm still trying to work the kinks on that particular thing. Haha I like your sense of humor on these things, Eragon with two dragons… That would be interesting, to say the least. Thanks!**

**Reply to **_**SimplySupreme**_**: was it a nice idea? Well thanks! :) To answer your question, yes I am planning to have I eventually become ExA though I am clueless as to how to make it all work in the long run. I hope this chapter was enough but not too much for that. You too! Good job on chapter 24 ;)**

**Reply to **_**oromisfan768: **_**I did set the bar pretty high now didn't I? I dearly hope this monster of a chapter was at least as good as the one before. Thanks though!**

**Reply to ****: yes! I think Eragon is happy now that he is within your good graces. To be honest I'm not sure where this will lead either. A journey for both of us then!**

**Reply to **_**Sundavar abr fyrn: **_**thanks for the Ancient language update although I guess my title's 'catchier' although when Eragon said Du Vrangr Gata (the wandering path) should be Du Gata Vrangr, I assumed that meant The Path of Wandering, not just The Path Wandering. I don't know, you obviously seem to be the expert, and if you really wish it then I'll change my title to suit.**

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><p><strong>Well my mostly silent readers (who I still greatly appreciate, by the way), Belatona is next! <strong>

**Stay classy**


	6. Glyphs of Mystery

**Chapter 6 people! Yay more battle time! But I gotta tell you, it's pretty exhausting after a while, which was why this one was so difficult, like seriously difficult. It's half writer's block really, I have a general idea of what to do and write, and I'm excited about that, it's just I can't seem to get the in between stuff. I've got the basic frame of the puzzle worked out, and I have a general idea of what the puzzle/picture will look like. But I can't fit all the little pieces very well or very fast. I also took an extended absence because I spent more in depth time reading Brisingr and the other books. I also used this opportunity to further expand my knowledge of Alagaësia, to at least get somewhere near an expert's or CP's knowledge, especially about Inheritance (book 4). I will let you guys discover this for yourselves, but the like-minded and knowledgeable ones out there, feel free to PM me or add a review about that :) I will also, much later (though before the book is released, I hope), add an actual excerpt from the story into mine. I'll tell you though, and you'll probably already tell it isn't my writing just from reading it. **

**I have reevaluated my goals and plans for this fanfic, and so here it is:**

**This story is my take, and my version of what will happen after Brisingr. I would like it to be as original to me as possible, but I also understand that there are readers that particularly like things based ON the actual book. That is why, if I see some teaser or something important released and I haven't already written something on it, I shall change it to CP's writing. Unoriginal I know, but I believe there's a difference between being original, and just making complete nonsense up. For instance if I made up a whole new branch of magic that Eragon somehow discovered, and he beat up Galbatorix in an instant, it might be my idea, but it's totally nonrelated to the story. That ain't gonna happen round here, folks. **

**So yeah, there's my two cents on the story, the first little bit takes place BEFORE I took a break. Please forgive me if it is garbage! Ah! But yep, here we go again:**

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><p>The few hours break between the battle and the next one was greatly relieving and beneficial to Eragon and the rest of the Varden. He could rest in his tent, recovering from the battle's desperation and carnage. It was a rest for his mind as well as his body. He took a small sip from his flask of faelnirv. He blinked quickly as the fiery liqueur ran down his throat, and a warm feeling filled his stomach as he was revitalized by the small infuse of energy. He checked the flask, worriedly noticing it was now just barely over half-full. He offered some to Saphira, who refused, saying<p>

_Save it, you'll need it for later on. Besides what I really need is a meal right now._

Eragon agreed; he too was ravenous after the morning's calamities. Climbing on Saphira's back, they flew over to the cooks' area. They were starting up their fires as the thousands of soldiers returning from battle would arrive tired and hungry. Eragon grabbed a plate, the same items as the day before; he tossed the meat to Saphira, who snapped it up with one quick motion. Then they went into the cattle fields, to see which one Saphira would prefer. Eragon gestured to the cook the one that Saphira preferred, and the man ordered some men to grab the cow and bring it towards Saphira. She pounced, splaying the cow's legs out, launched her fangs, and snapped the cow's neck, killing it. Eragon then transferred the cow's remaining energy into the belt of Beloth the Wise. While Saphira ate, he repeated what he had done the day before: whenever an animal was slaughtered, he would then transfer its energy into the twelve diamonds hidden in the belt. It was grim work for Eragon, and he felt relieved that Saphira had finished most of her meal in a few minutes. Shaking slightly from the ugly task he had undertaken, he climbed onto Saphira, and they flew towards Nasuada's tent, where she would be expecting them. Eragon entered her tent and found Roran there, as well as Arya and the other battle advisors. Blödhgarm and the other elves were already waiting for Eragon, positioning themselves behind him.

"Good. Now that everyone has arrived, we can proceed with our battle plans."

Nasuada unfurled a map of the area around the city of Belatona. "Our spies managed to steal one of these from the Empire's libraries in Dras Leona." She pointed to the eastern side of the city. "This is where our main force shall attack, because they will expect us to charge from the south, as most armies would, if they were coming from that direction." She then pointed to the northern side of the city, which were mainly docks on Lake Leona. "I shall also send a small covert band of soldiers to try and infiltrate the city gates as fast as possible. We learned our lesson at Feinster." Nasuada paused a moment, then addressed Roran, "Stronghammer, what say you? Do you believe you are best suited to try and breach the city gates, or sneak in and open them from the inside? I recall your experiences in Teirm went well in that regards."

Roran looked at the map, scratching his beard slightly. "I cannot say, my lady other than if I am sent into the city, that I have a magician with me. I do not know who will lead my men though."

"Then it is decided then. You shall go. You may choose whoever you want to lead your men. We have a small boat disguised as a fishing vessel ready near the lake, meet up there in two hours and wait until I give the order to begin. I will send a guide to lead you there." Roran bowed, and left the tent. Nasuada then focused her attention onto Eragon, saying,

"Roran is right about needing a magician, who knows whether they will have magicians like the ones we saw during our previous battle. Who do you think we could send, both powerful and clever enough to handle them, but also not sorely needed when we march on the gates?"

Eragon was thoughtful for a while, and then said, "Perhaps one of the Du Vrangr Gata could be sent. Or Carn, Roran's magician in his command. He has a quick mind, though not as powerful as most."

Nasuada nodded, adding, "I also thought perhaps the healer, Angela could be sent. She manages to turn up to places whether others want her to or not."

The discussion went on, with Nasuada and Eragon, and occasionally Arya, finishing up choosing the members of the infiltration party, and the Varden leader sending a messenger to each of the people named. Before the man left, Eragon called for him to send Carn to his tent. Nodding, the wiry man trotted off to deliver the urgent notifications. After this, Nasuada and her other battle advisors strategized on how to destroy the gates, and to put _these _soldiers _there._ Eragon was respectfully silent during the discussion, and decided to pass the time talking with Saphira.

_Do you think Nasuada was right in sending Roran?_

_I think that your cousin is a worthy man for the task_, was all Saphira said. Eragon was silent after this, until Nasuada had finished. Nasuada faced Eragon, Arya, and the other elves, and said,

"If worse comes to worse, and we cannot efficiently break through the gates, I think we'll have to do the same thing as when we took Feinster. Is this agreeable, Arya and Blödhgarm?"

Arya merely nodded, while Blödhgarm said,

"My duty lies in ensuring the safety of Shadeslayer. But if he wishes me to go on this mission, then I'm sure my companions will be sufficient enough to protect him."

Nasuada shook her head, "That won't be a problem. I will send Eragon shortly afterwards if you are sent."

Blödhgarm dipped his furred head, saying, "As you say, Nasuada Svit-kona."

Nasuada, now satisfied with the plans, stood and addressed all present in the tent.

"This meeting is over. We march when the horn sounds three times."

Eragon turned to face his guards, and told Blödhgarm, "Meet me on the northern side of our formation when the time comes."

Blödhgarm bowed, "We shall do as you instruct, Shadeslayer."

Eragon climbed onto Saphira, and she quickly flew them over to Eragon's tent. Once there, he kneeled in a clearing, and whispered a spell he had put together while waiting for Nasuada's discussion to finish. The ground before him rippled, and bubbled furiously, until a small amount of a grey substance came out of the ground and solidified to form a small wrist bracelet. He also summoned a small amount of amethyst from the minerals in the ground, about the size of a pea. He combined both the bracelet and the gem into a single design. Eragon released the spell, groaning faintly from the loss of energy, but he quickly recovered. He examined his work.

The bracelet was fashioned from a light silvery metal he had discovered from Tenga's compendiums. It was of simple design, with the elven rune for _heal_ indented onto one side. Eragon then imbued it with the spell for healing, and he also added a decent measure of energy into the crystal. He drained two of the twelve diamonds in his belt into the crystal, which held the energy fairly well. Saphira also added some energy as well before Eragon could object. Then Eragon waited for the magician to arrive, cleaning some of his armor as he waited.

In a short while, the thin form of Carn appeared in front of Eragon's tent. The man looked slightly nervous, though he did not show it in his voice,

"You asked for my presence, Shadeslayer?"

Eragon put down the rag he was using to clean his greaves. "Yes, I did. I am aware you have been chosen to be in a covert mission with my cousin." Carn nodded at this. "However, while I have no doubt you are a capable magician, you are not the strongest of them, as I saw after the battle today." Carn's cheeks flushed at this, but he nodded. Eragon continued, "That is why I asked of your presence. This mission is of such importance I should have gone myself, were it not for helping our troops break through the gates. Because of this," Eragon turned and picked up the bracelet he had made. Allowing Carn to examine the object, Eragon explained,

"This bracelet has been imbued with the spell for healing, as well as some energy if you so need it. I sense that you can feel its presence." Carn nodded again, "Yes I sense a substantial amount of energy in the crystal, Shadeslayer." Eragon nodded as well, "Good. Now I have also added a spell to ward off enemies from taking this bracelet. So long as it is on your arm, they cannot touch it, nor destroy it without the strongest of magic. Also, I shall lock it onto your wrist such that it cannot be removed unless I say so."

Carn appeared slightly awed but said evenly, "I thank you, Shadeslayer. This will be extremely helpful in our mission, and I won't let your cousin, Roran, down, this I promise you."

Eragon, satisfied, said, "You may go join your fellow comrades then." Carn thanked Eragon again, and attached the bracelet onto his wrist. Eragon whispered a spell, and the metal band clicked and locked in place. Then Carn left without another word, experimenting with the new addition on his wrist. Eragon smiled, pleased that he had greatly increased the chance of success on the mission. Eragon also added some extra wards around Roran, particularly against treachery by magic. Finished, he cleaned the rest of his armor, and checked Saphira's as well, making sure the straps were tight enough and the plates properly positioned. Finished with his inspection, Eragon put his own armor on and boarded Saphira. They flew over to the northern side of the Varden's ranks, just as the horn sounded, once, twice, and three times. The pair landed beside Blödhgarm and the other elves, who bowed at their arrival.

"We shall do as we promised during the battle of Feinster, Shadeslayer, and assist the Varden as much as possible."

Eragon nodded, saying, "Your help will be greatly appreciated, Blödhgarm, as well as the rest of you."

The elves, bowed, murmuring, "May the stars watch over you, Shadeslayer."

Eragon turned and examined their side of the Varden. He was pleased to find a battalion of dwarves nearby and he recognized a dwarf as one of Orik's main advisors. The dwarf did not acknowledge Eragon, although Eragon was fairly sure it was his foster brother that had placed him there, rather than Nasuada. As he turned back to face the city, another horn sounded, signifying for them to begin advancing. During the march, they encountered no other hostilities until they were several hundred feet from the city gates. Overhead, storm clouds were gathering ominously. The city walls were imposing, though not, as Eragon recalled, as well thought out as Teirm. A tall gate made of oak with iron bars running over the wood stood on the eastern side. Eragon knew for certain that the gates would be barred both physically and by magic. By now the Varden were just beyond the city's archers' reach, though they still fired several shots, causing the rebels to halt their progress. The defenders on the walls gave shouts and jeers at the Varden, who replied with equal animosity. Suddenly, a bright orange flash flew from behind the Empire's battlements, and a flaming boulder the size of a cow smashed into the Varden's ranks, bouncing and killing scores.

With a shout, the whole of the Varden charged without hesitation, as several more boulders spiraled over the walls into the Varden's ranks. They collided with the gate with a thunderous boom, but the gate held. Arrows were fired into the wood, sinking in, but the thick gates would not give so easily. Eragon mounted Saphira, and she sprung into the air with a roar, as arrows began buzzing by angrily at the dragon, though Eragon's wards prevented them from reaching their target. Saphira unleashed a torrent of flame along most of the eastern wall, reducing many of the soldiers into ashes. A boulder flew by dangerously close to Saphira's wing, and with another roar, she returned back to the Varden's efforts in breaking the gate. The front line of warriors gave room for Saphira to land, and she gave a quick burst of flame onto the wood, which showed no signs of burning.

_The gate is warded to defend precisely against your attacks, _Eragon observed.

Saphira snarled. _Perhaps, but it cannot stand forever against the will of a dragon!_

Saphira dug her massive claws into the oak, and they tore through with an earsplitting screech, as her talons scraped the iron beams embedded in the wood. Eragon winced, his ears not enjoying the noise, and leaned over the saddle and gave a hack at the wood himself. After each chunk of wood had been torn from the gate, Saphira gave another burst of flame, and yet the wood would still not catch fire. Saphira's efforts raised the Varden's spirits; they were awed at the dragon's ferocity and sheer strength. Saphira had dug and clawed through over five feet of wood, before she felt the gate give.

_Shadeslayer, the Varden's troops can pass through now, you are sorely needed in destroying the machines launching the missiles, _a magician with Nasuada said.

Eragon relayed the news to Saphira, who took sprayed another jet of flame at the wooden cavity, which did not catch fire, and she spread her wings and flew quickly above the city walls, well out of reach from arrows. Eragon quickly saw the layout of the city. It had two layers of walls, both about the same height, with a large courtyard behind the walls of the second. Past the courtyard lay a large castle, with multiple spires and various turrets. Focusing his attention on the half dozen catapults that were launching the rocky fireballs, Eragon and Saphira dived towards them, avoiding as many arrows as they could, and Saphira gave a torrent of blue flame over one of them, burning the soldiers using it and igniting the machine itself. Saphira extended her talons and grabbed one of the catapults, attempting to lift it while Eragon shot arrows form his bow at any soldiers approaching. With a tremendous heave, Saphira succeeded in raising the machine a few feet off the ground, before dropping it again, splitting the wood and destroying the structure irrevocably.

_Is this how you dismantle the ballistae at Feinster? _Eragon inquired while notching another arrow. He hadn't missed yet.

Saphira panted from the effort, saying _Yes, although these are much larger and heavier. They are no match for us though._

Eragon agreed and released his arrow, which reached its target with a high pitched buzz. They destroyed the remaining four machines without much incident, though the machines had launched two fireballs before Saphira could destroy them. Soon all that was left were smoldering, broken piles of wood and rope, with fallen soldiers peppering the streets around them. They flew back to the gates just as the Varden broke through. They cheered at the sight of the dismantled machines and quickly stormed through the city streets, going through and into houses and shops battling any soldiers inside. Eventually most of the Varden had arrived at the city's inner gate entrance, pounding and hacking on the wood as they had done previously. This wood had much more iron beams laced into it, running perpendicular to one another, some running over, others running under each other. The Varden relentlessly hacked at it, but the gate gave even less to the blows than the outer gate.

By now it was late evening and the clouds overhead grew dramatically in size, threatening to pour rain. Eragon searched for Arya or Blödhgarm's location, and found the pair locked in battle against another pair of magicians. The other elves were frantically defending the two against a group of over fifty soldiers attacking them. Eragon gave a shout, and Saphira roared, swooping towards the soldiers and gave a pass with her flames. To Eragon's disbelief, the flames washed over them, their bodies unharmed. _How can this be? The magicians are locked in a fight, they cannot help the soldiers._

_There must be more then, around us. _Saphira snarled. Then as if, proving her words, a hooded figure stepped out of the shadows of a shop, and sent a blast of energy towards Saphira. The attack stopped dead in its tracks, blocked by Eragon's wards. Eragon gave an audible groan as the wards enacted their toll on his strength. Saphira furiously roared, and released a torrent of blue fire at the magician. The fire passed around the man, burning the building behind him. Eragon exclaimed, _Saphira, let me deal with him myself, assist the elves or Arya!_

Saphira continued her stream of fire but lowered her height, letting Eragon leap onto the ground below. He rolled to avoid the impact, drew Brisingr, and charged the magician. Saphira's flames ended just as he landed, and the magician raised his arm and was uttering a spell when Eragon shouted, "Thrysta vindr!" just as the magician launched his attack. Eragon's spell diverted the blast, which destroyed a nearby shop with a great explosion. Eragon then launched an attack of his own, this time with his mind, an iron spear to break through the man's mental barrier. His attack did not break through completely but he saw the magician visibly flinch.

Eragon resumed his attack, relentlessly attempting to slip past the man's armor. The man tried to enact a counterattack of his own, but his was feeble compared to Eragon's fierce determination. The man gave a scream as Eragon finally broke into his consciousness, then fell, dead after Eragon uttered one of the twelve words of death. Eragon rushed back to where Arya and Blödhgarm were. The two magicians they were fighting were dead, one without any marks on him, and the other torn apart, obviously by Saphira's claws. Saphira and the other elves had eliminated most of the soldiers while the rest had fled into various buildings and streets.

"Are you all right?" he asked Arya worriedly. She nodded, saying,

"The magicians were strong, but they were no match for Blödhgarm and I. Another minute and we would have defeated them."

Eragon asked, "How did they attack you with none of our own soldiers around?" This time Blödhgarm answered.

"We stayed behind, fighting off the last remaining soldiers, when the three magicians stepped out of a building and attacked us. Together we could have easily defeated them had it not been for a large group of soldiers that were hidden as well. Arya-dröttningu and I took care of the spellcasters while the others dealt with the soldiers. One of the magicians ran off out of view while the two engaged us with their minds."

One of the elves asked Eragon, "Where did the third man go?" Eragon indicated the corpse down the street. Blödhgarm said, eyes glowing, "They were much more powerful than any ordinary human spellcaster should have been."

The others agreed. Eragon ventured into Arya's mind, and asked, _Do you think that Galbatorix has given them some of his Eldunarí? _

_No, for I could not sense another presence. They were probably given some item imbued with magic to enhance their strength, although something of that power should have been noticed too. I wonder… _Arya trailed off, looking intently at the bodies. She strode forward, and flipped over one of the magicians. He was of middle age, with dark brown hair and bags under his eyes. He did not carry a sword, did not even have a knife upon his belt, and he only wore basic armor. However, on the magicians right hip was a small pouch. Arya saw this as well and removed it from the man's belt. Inside was a smooth black rock, with a glyph for _fire_ inscribed on it. A delicate search through the remains of the other spellcaster's body revealed the same. Eragon quickly ran over to his defeated magician's corpse, and removed a similar stone as well; however this one was inscribed with _light_ on the side.

_This was what he was attacking me with, _Eragon realized. Rushing back to the elves and Saphira, he showed them his results and he explained how during the battle the magician had indeed used this spell in attacking him. Arya's eyes widened, but she said nothing while Blödhgarm said in his lilting tones,

"Perhaps these objects are what gave these humans their unnatural strength. Though how they got it, and where it has gone after their deaths remains a mystery."

Arya then spoke up, "I believe someone far more powerful than these are controlling them through these stones. The spell written on them determines what they will do, and it is a simple matter of tying its energy reserves onto the magician's life force. Such a spell would be fairly easy to do, if they were properly trained." Everyone nodded, knowing full well that the only ones who could possess this skill or power were either Murtagh or Galbatorix.

Suddenly a mental shout rang, _Shadeslayer! Arya! The Varden sorely need you at the second gates, there is a magician there. I, no, argh! _The message ceased with the man's demise. Eragon quickly mounted Saphira and instructed Blödhgarm,

"Meet us at the gates as quickly as possible. If they are not already open, assist the Varden in opening it, rather than Saphira and me."

Blödhgarm bowed, "We shall do as you wish, Shadeslayer."

Eragon saw Arya conversing silently with Saphira, and then without another word the elf princess leaped and climbed behind Eragon.

_Why is she coming with us?_

_Because I asked her _Saphira said matter-of-factly, _and besides, don't pretend you didn't want her to come along._

Eragon struggled for words, then finally managed, _Well perhaps I did._

Saphira chuckled in her unusual way, and then she leapt into the air, rising above the buildings towards the second gate. Eragon saw the mass of the Varden packed tightly around the gates, still trying to get through. Arya pointed, "Look!"

Eragon glanced at where she was pointing, and saw a lone spellcaster on the walls about a hundred feet from the gate. The figure was killing the Varden at ease, conjuring large sprays of ruby red flames. Saphira swooped in with a withering blast of her own, forcing the man to duck and dive to avoid it. He then sent his blast of flames towards Saphira, small torrents of fire bursting from each of his hands.

"Brisingr, iet tauthr!" Eragon exclaimed, redirecting the flames past him and Saphira. Arya raised her palm and cried,

"Jierda!" A green burst of energy shot from her palm and hit the wall just below the man's feet. The wall crumbed and cracked at the spot, tripping the spellcaster and sending him tumbling over into the Varden's ranks to his doom.

"Thank you",Eragon said to Arya as Saphira landed near the gates.

"It was nothing, I merely had an idea." Arya replied, leaping off of Saphira.

"A very good one then, I should try that sometime."

Arya said nothing, but walked past Eragon towards the gates. Just as Eragon was about to follow her, Saphira said, _Eragon, Blödhgarm and the elves approach. _

Eragon turned to see the furred figure of Blödhgarm running towards him, his feet a blur of movement, as if not touching the ground at all. The other elves ran alongside as well, and in moments they were beside Saphira, showing no signs of heavy breathing at all. Eragon nodded at their arrival and he turned and ran towards the direction of the gate. Arya was nowhere to be seen, lost amidst the throngs of warriors. The soldiers gave way for him as well as the other elves, and Eragon stood a distance from the gate, raised his hand and uttered,

"Stenr, jierda!"

The stone around the gate broke, sending it crashing down before breaking into small pieces. Soon, a large opening was created right next to the gate, rendering it useless. Eragon felt a sudden drain on his energy as his spell tripped and overcame the wards protecting the wall. Grimacing, he replenished his strength from the belt of Beloth the Wise and charged through the opening, drawing Brisingr. Blödhgarm and the other elves followed closely after, with the ranks of the Varden behind them. Eragon burst through the opening, dodging the enemy arrows, and he ran Brisingr straight through the nearest soldier. The man crumpled without a sound. Eragon then spun, whirling his sword over his head, and hacked at another soldier, cutting straight through the man's shield. Blödhgarm raised his furred hand and sent a blast of magic out, killing a row of archers. Saphira's enormous bellow distracted the soldiers momentarily, allowing Eragon and the rest of the Varden to pour into the courtyard. Eragon led the charge thrusting and cutting through any soldier he happened to run past. Skidding to a halt before a row of twenty or so soldiers, he pointed the bloodied tip of his sword at the soldiers and said,

"Brisingr!" The sword burst into flames, instantly causing the blood on the blade to fizz and steam. The soldiers charged, raising their shields and swords. Eragon gave them ten paces before he too sprinted at them, his movements lightning quick to any human. He swung his sword in a wide blazing arc, beheading two soldiers in a row and wounding another. He turned his body, killed three more soldiers with three quick jabs of Brisingr, and then leapt high into the air, landing with a crash into two more soldiers. Blödhgarm and the other elves were barely a pace behind, a flurry of green and brown, their silver blades flashing and hacking at the Belatona soldiers. Saphira had fought a whole group of soldiers herself. She knocked them all flat with a sweep of her tail, and then she released a stream of blue fire, burning them with a single pass.

Then the rain came.

The dripping water helped cool Eragon's body, providing soothing relief to his burning muscles. The other soldiers of the Varden seemed to feel this way too, which only strengthened their progress. However the downpour hindered vision, especially as it was growing near full night. Saphira's occasional bursts of blue flames illuminated the area, allowing Eragon brief glimpses of the battle. The Varden had easily swept through the courtyard, and many of them were entering the castle itself. Before long, Eragon also had arrived at the tall castle. Archers from various openings were firing upon the Varden, who tried to counter with their own arrows. Saphira helped them by leaping into the air, sending bursts of flame into the openings, and occasionally smashing through a small window with her claws. Thunder boomed loudly, and a rare flash of lightning illuminated the entire city. Eragon, Blödhgarm, and the other elves soon were fighting through the castle, floor by floor, encountering a magician on each castle level. With the combined help of the elves, Eragon easily crushed the spellcaster each time, as yet still unsure of who was providing the spellcaster with their uncanny strength.

When the edges of dawn were approaching, the fighting had suddenly quieted significantly. The Varden had reached the gates of the city's Lord Bradburn, who had surrendered with no resistance.

They had taken the city of Belatona.

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><p><strong>Finally, finally, finally finished with this chapter! A noticeable, almost physical weight has been lifted off my shoulders people! I mean it took nearly an entire week to get this through. I'll admit I took one or two days off, but still, an unusually long time. At least I now have the roots for next chapter. <strong>_**Hint: **_**it'll be about Roran. So no people, I haven't forgotten about his super-secret mission. Thanks so much for willing to wait so long, I hope this was at least good enough to be worth the wait, though I doubt it.**

**So what do you think? Should the Varden just keep going on to march to Dras Leona, or should they stay and allow Eragon to investigate these mysterious spellcasters? Oh, don't think we're done with them just yet *evil laugh* although I won't answer any questions on them, you'll just have to find out later on.**

**Reply to **_**Draco Lucis: **_**First of all, thanks! :) But second of all Eragon may have an interest in her significantly (although in book 3 it waned a little bit), but this would ruin their friendship because how would a relationship develop if she could just say his true name and make him not like her anymore! Alright she's not **_**that **_**cold hearted but you could imagine her doing something similar to that. Third point, I fixed the meat error thing. Oopsie. :)**

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><p><strong>Reply to <strong>_**:**_** Read the reply above, so yeah it was a significant mistake haha I just had a mind burp when I wrote it. Hope you liked this one and let me know if I made another catastrophic mistake like that.**

**Reply to **_**paolinifansimon: **_**haha I knew someone would say that! But you're still in the same ballpark concerning Murtagh… I won't reveal any more though.**

**Reply to **_**Sundavar abr fyrn: **_**Well, Shadows of War (I figured it out), perhaps they can all I knew is that they know their own, and that they probably would be able to figure it out.**

**Reply to **_**oromisfan768: **_**I thought about that too! I hope this was enough to forgive Eragon's carelessness.**

**Reply to **_**Princess Arya: **_**I was wondering where you went! :) I hope your performance goes well especially with all of that preparation. Wow. And thanks, I try to be original but not too different I hope. I will try to get Chapter 7 as soon as possible.**

**Reply to **_**Blaze of Fury**_**: Cool name! Besides that, yes I suppose it is up to me, but I'd like some feedback on my ideas as well. I have many things planned for the Vault of Souls, but some may or may not go into fruition. I am hoping Eragon doesn't screw things up again! But definitely friends, any more is yet to be discovered.**

**Reply to **_**SimplySupreme:**_** The master has entered my presence again! :) I knew you would think I made Belatona a bit too important, but I didn't want to deprive my mostly silent readers from some action! Dry in some parts eh? Well nothing a bit of rain couldn't get rid of. Ha, my jokes are so lame… Yes I reread and reread it and I couldn't help but notice it was like Feinster. This one is probably even more so, but hey, no Varaug, and less depressing as Feinster. I am thinking you may need to help me on Arya's part in later chapters, I'm not doing her character justice, and I know you would do a much better job. :)**

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><p><strong>Well folks, I'm starting to notice a direct correlation between length of chapter and number of hitsreviews. Wonder what this means for next chapter?**


	7. The Plan

**It has officially been too long! I'm deeply sorry I couldn't update as fast as many of you would have liked! This summer business got a lot more hectic as I draw closer and closer back to the school year (one more day!). I hope you guys haven't given up on me. :) And, this chapter wasn't as long as I wanted it to be. But read the ending and you'll (hopefully) understand. It wasn't writer's block so much as not having enough time to write it well! My personal problem is I have to keep writing if I want the story to flow well.**

**This is (as promised) the chapter concerning Roran's POV in the battle at Belatona. Hope y'all like this (relatively) short bit!**

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><p>Roran paced restlessly around the shores of Lake Leona, impatiently waiting for the others to arrive. He had left Nasuada's tent quite cross, but he hid his feelings under a blank expression. <em>How come I should be sent on this mission and not someone more powerful like Arya or the other elves? <em>He had thought to himself. _I should be at the gates, fighting alongside my regiment._ Roran would never refuse a command, but he was still angry nevertheless. As he gathered up his necessary armor and weapons, his anger subsided into calm acceptance. He understood the logic in Nasuada's order. _The others are needed to help Eragon if Murtagh or a Shade is in the city. I only hope they chose a good spellcaster. _Roran pointed to a small pebble on the beach and muttered,

"Stenr reisa!" The rock did not budge, completely ignoring whatever Roran had said.

Roran looked up, to see a band of ten or so men approaching from the row of tents. He didn't know a few of them, but he was pleased to find many of them were in his regiment before, including Harald. Then Roran whooped with joy as he saw the thin form of Carn bringing up the rear, with a new silvery bracelet on his wrist. Carn smiled when he saw Roran's reaction and he embraced Roran on the arm, saying,

"Looks as if nothing will separate us, not even a secret mission."

Roran chuckled softly, replying, "No I suppose not. What is that bracelet you have on your wrist?"

Carn glanced at it, then shrugged, saying, "Your cousin, Eragon made it for me. It's to help me when I use magic."

"That's good. Who knows what unspeakable horrors lay behind the city gates?" Roran, not for the first time, appreciated the generosity of his cousin. Though they may lead completely different lives, it heartened Roran that his cousin still remembered him as family, and went extraordinary lengths to protect him. Roran's thoughts also flashed back to Katrina and their unborn child, who decided to stay behind in Feinster, with many of the other villagers, including Horst, Elain, as well as Gedric. He wished more than anything to have her with him, but the continuous march would do their child no good, and so she stayed with one of Nasuada's healers in the city.

"Who in the blazes is that?"

Roran broke free of his thoughts, and looked to find a short statured woman hurriedly walking over towards him. A small cat followed close behind. Roran recognized her as Angela, a witch that was as odd as she was mysterious.

The herbalist smiled at Roran in her peculiar sort of way, and said, "So you're Roran then. I must admit, I do see the resemblance between you and your cousin. Same brave ignorance too, by the looks of things."

Roran, unsure of what to say, stammered, "Er, thanks, but Nasuada has already sent us a spellcaster with us, we won't need another."

The witch's smile waned slightly before she composed herself and said matter-of-factly,

"Well, I wasn't sent as a spellcaster, Nasuada sent me here to help you in this rather precarious mission as a fighter. Don't worry, you won't have to order me around, although if you do see some mad rabbits around, it would be best to alert my presence."

Roran was thoroughly baffled at this statement, although he managed to say, "I suppose I will tell you if I see, er, mad rabbits." He had already seen the herbalist in combat, her strange two bladed staff a graceful but vicious weapon not to be messed with. Her werecat Solembum also fought as a strange small child with fangs and a sharp knife. Though Roran did not fully trust the strange lady, he knew the reason for Nasuada's actions and he was glad the eccentric witch had come along for the journey.

The group found their boat tied to a post nearby, and they dragged it to the water. It was a small nondescript rowing boat, longer than it was wide, with two long wooden oars. It would seat about fifteen people, and was the perfect size for their mission. Roran ordered the men in their required seats, while Angela simply sat at the front with Solembum. Using their oars to push the boat off, the group paddled slowly but smoothly out onto the pristine depths of Lake Leona.

By the time they arrived, the sun was starting to set, and they managed to sneak into the harbor unnoticed. The faint distant sounds of battle were now apparent, and the small group quickly docked the boat, and moved into the city. When the gateway approached, the group split and hid among the surroundings, behind walls, small houses, and shops. Crouching behind a deserted fish stand, Roran waited until the perfect opportunity arrived. A lone man hurriedly went over to the gates, knocked three times, then conversed with someone behind the gate, and he was allowed in, the gate shutting quickly behind him.

As the gate shut, Roran and the others stealthily crept up to it, careful not to jingle their weaponry and armor. Harald whispered in Roran's ear,

"How are we going to get in, the gate's locked! You saw how the man said something to get in."

Roran asked the others in the group whether they had heard. Everyone shook their heads until Angela piped in,

"Well unlike you blundering fools, _I _amplified my hearing when we entered. And _I _heard what the man said."

Roran cursed under his breath. The herbalist was right, they should improve their hearing if they were to avoid other soldiers. He asked Carn to try and improve their hearing, and the spellcaster quietly muttered something under his breath with his eyes closed. Suddenly Roran's hearing doubled, he could hear everyone's breathing around him, and even the rustle of their clothing. Carn was shaking with slight tremors afterwards. Concerned, Roran asked him,

"Are you okay?"

Carn nodded, but he said shakily, "I'll… I'll be fine. I just haven't tried that spell before."

Roran looked at Carn for a moment, then turned to the herbalist,

"Can you tell me the words that the man had spoken?"

Angela was silent for a moment, then told Roran and the others what she had heard. Roran stood from his crouch, and knocked three times on the gate, as the man before had done. A rough voice sounded,

"Who's there?"

Roran hesitated a moment, then repeated Angela's words. The voice didn't answer, until the gate rumbled and it opened ever so slightly to allow a man in.

Roran rushed through, teeth bared, and he drew his hammer in a quick fluid motion, bringing it down upon the helm of the man behind the gate. The soldier fell with a sickening crunch. Roran shouted at the others to enter, and soon the whole group was within the castle walls. Using his bow, one of Roran's men dispatched a guard atop a roof of a building. Harald and another man quickly eliminated a pair of unwary soldiers standing by a doorway. The street became quiet in a matter of seconds. Regrouping with the others, Roran led them down an empty alleyway, still on the alert for more soldiers. They managed to avoid several skirmishes, thanks to Carn's spell.

_There are fewer men than I expected. _He thought to himself. As if repeating his words, one of the men said quietly,

"Why are there so few men? I thought Belatona was a large city."

"They were probably all sent to fight the main Varden," Roran answered. "But don't be too sure there isn't a large group hidden somewhere."

As the group turned a side street into a major road through the city, Angela suddenly hissed, "Soldiers!"

Everyone bolted behind whatever they could use as a hiding place. Roran gripped his hammer firmly as he intently listened to what was occurring. He could make out a small group of men; between ten or twenty, he couldn't be sure, marching past them.

Carn said softly, so soft that no one would hear were it not for their improved hearing, "Do you think we can take them?"

Roran replied equally as softly, "I think so. On my signal," Carn nodded and relayed the message to others in hiding. _If there are less than fifteen of them, we stand a chance, but any more and we can't defeat them without alerting our presence._

Roran saw the lengthy shadows of the men walking past him, and he shouted,

"Now!"

The group burst out of hiding into the group of stunned soldiers. Roran grimace as he realized there were too many soldiers for them to kill quickly. Roran bashed the kneecaps of one of the soldiers, causing him to topple over, who Roran finished with a quickly blow to his head. Then he whirled around, hammer flying in a wide arc, crushing the skull of another unfortunate soldier. Angela flourished her twin bladed staff, easily cutting through soldiers despite her diminutive size. Solembum had changed into human form, his small dagger flashing in the faint light.

The attack had gone well until one of the soldiers sounded a small horn, which rang unnaturally loud to Roran's ears. Roran lunged for the horn, but the soldier dodged to the side and swung at Roran with his sword. Roran barely managed to miss the singing blade, and he smashed the soldier's kneecap with his hammer. The horn abruptly stopped, and the soldier howled in pain as he toppled over. Roran dispatched the wailing soldier with a blow to the head. Roran fervently hoped that nobody had heard.

He was wrong. Distant shouts of more soldiers were coming from down the street. Roran quickly looked to see how the others had fared. By now the soldiers had been defeated, and he was relieved to see no one had been seriously injured. He shouted,

"Quick, soldiers are coming from that way!"

"Down here!" Angela called, standing in an empty alleyway with Solembum. Roran and the others rushed into the alley, weaving between random houses and shops. The soldiers' cries grew louder and softer just as randomly as well, as the opposing forces drew closer and further apart. Roran followed the herbalist, unsure of where she was leading them.

The soldiers' shouts grew fainter and fainter until Roran was sure they had lost their trail. As the group stopped to catch their breath, Solembum appeared from another side street, now in werecat form. The feline gave Angela a long look with his glowing eyes, and Angela relayed the werecat's information to Roran,

"Solembum says the second gate is near."

Surprised, Roran replied, "A second gate?"

Angela huffed a sigh of impatience. "Were you not paying attention in Nasuada's tent? Obviously they had another wall, this is just the lower level."

Roran, with his pride stung, addressed the werecat, "Um, could you lead us to the gates?"

The werecat gave no indication he had heard, but simply bounded off onto another street. Roran dashed after him, and the rest of his group following.

_Where the devil is he taking us now? _He wondered, _and where did he go off to this whole time?_

Every time Roran seemed to catch up with the cat, the feline would take another turn, and soon it was all Roran could do keeping up in the early evening. He skidded to a halt as he saw the cat sitting in the middle of a dark road, licking one of his paws. Roran glanced up the street and gasped as he beheld the sight.

There was a large iron gate, much taller than a man, with strange iron beams running along the wood. He had no doubt that this gate would be much better defended than the one they had entered. The other members of his group caught up and they too gaped at the sight of the entrance.

"How do you suppose we will get in, Roran?" Carn breathed.

"We can't."

Roran turned to find Angela retying her small leather boots.

"That gate is with no doubt protected by magic, which would prove far too operose for us to breach." She said.

Roran was unsure of what the word "operose" meant, but he understood the grain of truth in the herbalist's words. _There should still be another way in. _He thought to himself. _Even the Black King's fortress would have many secret entrances._

He looked up along the wall, and groaned slightly as he saw rows of archers lined up down the length of the wall. Slowly, a thought began to occur to him, and his companions rested while he debated his idea with himself. Satisfied that it would not be unsuccessful, he gathered his comrades and told them his plan.

"That is ridiculous!" spluttered Harald, "such a thing would be suicide, Roran!"

"It is very risky," agreed Carn.

"I like it." finished Angela.

The men, even Roran, gaped at the herbalist. She continued,

"It is so unorthodox and risky it should work! The Empire would fall for it easily."

Roran, still perturbed by the herbalist's sudden agreement, decided to instead convince Carn that it would work.

"Come now Carn, why shouldn't it work? As Angela said, it would be so unpredictable that the Empire wouldn't think twice. You cannot disagree about that."

Carn slowly nodded, then said, "You're right Roran. I only fear for you and the rest of our lives."

"Do not worry," Roran reassured him, "this _will_ work."

Dispatching the Carn and the others who needed to be sent, Roran set about finishing the plan. He, Harald, and another man by the name of Biled would stay while the others would go and find some slain soldiers of the Empire. After a short while, Roran saw a group of soldiers approaching from an alleyway. Calling to Harald and Biled to join him, he stood and waved at the group. Suddenly the group sped up, and approached Roran on a brisk trot.

_That's odd _Roran thought, _this wasn't part of the plan._

He took three steps toward them before the leader of the group drew a sword pointed at Roran's neck and growled,

"You are under arrest, by the command of King Galbatorix and our great Lord Bradburn for breaking into our beloved city! Drop your weapons!"

Wordlessly, but with prickling horror nonetheless, Roran and the other men did what they were told.

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><p><strong>Dum-dum-DUM! What happened! <strong>

**Well I guess we'll have to wait and see. :)**

**School starts very soon so if I don't repost in a while, you'll know why.**

**Reply time! **

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><p><strong>Reply to RestrainedFreedom<strong>_**: **_**Thanks! I had to be really careful to make it believable. Explanations will occur in later chapters I promise.**

**Reply to **_**Draco Lucis: **_**You seem to really want this to happen but in my view, I think Eragon's feelings for Arya have shifted. Not changed, or lessened but shifted. He of course could only ever love her, but I don't think it's the same obsessive nature as it was during the Blood-Oath celebration.**

**Reply to **_**Princess Arya: **_**I hope you weren't in too much trouble! :) But yeah, if it helps, then you're welcome!**

**Reply to **_**SimplySupreme: **_**Purple! Like grapes. :) But anyways. Was the chapter actually better? Yay! You don't know what I have planned for those mysterious magicians. I think. And yes I think I wrote this chapter to help with block but I ended up having block for it anyways. *facepalm***

**Happy reading!**

**Reply to **_**paolinifansimon: **_**I am aware of that, although it is kind of difficult to add the info in the midst of a battle.**

**Reply to **_**oromisfan768: **_**I hope so! It didn't make a very good appearance in this chapter (he never really used it) but I'm fairly sure it will later.**

**Reply to **_**Massa: **_**Yes I assume if Oromis could, then so could Glaedr. But the said dragon is not entirely capable of coherent speech at the moment. **

**Reply to **_**Korkman2: **_**Indeed it was. What I find interesting is Microsoft Word deems your penname as a real word! :)**

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><p><strong>Chapter 8 (which is just a continuation of chapter 7) will hopefully come soon! Time will tell.<strong>

Did you know, that for each review you write, 4 dolphins in the Atlantic will have their lives saved? E-reviews. So environmentally friendly.


	8. Plan the Second

**It's been sooooooooooooooooooo long since I updated, it's no wonder I haven't gotten any new reviews ;) **

**My timing is so ironically perfect. I update a chapter that Paolini finishes in the very beginning of book 4, and after I've read it many many times (and with a couple tears here and there, gotta say). I don't know what to say about the book, let's just say it's exactly what I expected, whether good or bad. And it wasn't as satisfying an ending as the final Harry Potter book was. **

**No spoilers, don't worry. In fact, I think I'm gonna omit a few (just a few) details that are in Inheritance.**

**Anyways, enjoy! **

**(A/N: for those who have read this already, I did make some small subtle changes to hopefully give it some more depth/coherence.)**

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><p>"Drop your weapons!" the man shouted.<p>

Roran, in utter shock at the turn of events did what he was told. He laid down his hammer, as well as his knife on his belt. Harald and Biled also did the same, their swords clattering onto the ground. A pair of enemy soldiers rushed forward to seize their weapons and the captain of the group swaggered closer towards Roran, a look of confidence on his features. He was taller than average, of medium build with short black hair. He had a red and black tunic over a vest of silver chainmail as well as hard leather armor on his legs. He carried a long, thin sword on his hip. Roran glared at him, masking his shock in a look of fury.

"What are you doing inside the city walls?" the man questioned.

Roran said nothing, merely gave a small shrug and muttered, "Scouting."

The man scoffed as he examined the trio.

"Scouting, eh? With just three of you? I wonder how you got in with so few."

Roran and the others said nothing, and the captain was about to reply when a soldier in his group murmured something in his ear and the man suddenly stared at Roran intently.

"You're, you're Roran, Eragon's cousin!" he said with recognition dawning on his face. Then he said in a more frightened tone of voice, "Come with me at once."

Three soldiers of the group stepped forward to bind Roran and his companions' wrists. As they moved, Roran noticed that one of the soldiers in the group was noticeably shorter than the others. But before Roran could think about it any further, he was roughly shoved forward into a cadence of marching with the others. As the group approached the gate Roran had intended to enter, a guard atop the wall shouted,

"State your alliance and business!"

The captain shouted back, "It is I, Captain Fenely, and I carry urgent news for Lord Bradburn, and I have found enemies within our walls as well!"

The guard then shouted to someone and with a groan, the gates rumbled outward to reveal a massive courtyard, ending with a tall imposing castle, not unlike the one Roran encountered in Feinster. As the group passed through the wall, the gates shut with a great boom, a massive bolt sliding into place locking the gate. _How are we going to break that_? He wondered. Throughout the courtyard there were soldiers milling around in preparation for the siege. Roran was surprised to see that there were no catapults or the like guarding the gate, merely soldiers.

"C'mon, get moving!" snarled the man escorting Roran, prodding him forward with the tip of his battle-axe. The mass of soldiers made way for the group, occasionally pausing to see what was happening. The group by this time had reached the castle itself, and they entered through the tall oaken doorway, revealing a dimly lit hallway. No grand tapestries or paintings hung from the pillars and ceilings, only the occasional gold embroidered flag of Galbatorix. Rows of braziers extended down the hallway as far as Roran could see.

"Lord Bradburn likes his castle dark and dreary." Roran's guard muttered to no one in particular.

"Quiet!" the captain snapped, and the group proceeded on in silence.

Roran was lost in thought, thinking of a way to escape, and he did not notice when a soldier said something to his escort, who switched places with the soldier. _At the very least, _Roran reasoned, _if they don't kill me immediately, the Varden will break through and rescue me. I wonder what happened to Carn and the others though._

Roran's thoughts were interrupted by a pair of sentries guarding another doorway, one of whom stated,

"State your reason for your entry."

The captain said confidently, "I wish to speak with Lord Bradburn on an important matter."

The guard remained silent for a while then said, "He is busy."

The captain frowned and said, "It is urgent."

The guard denied access again, sparking an argument between him and the captain. Roran continued pondering his escape when his escort whispered in his ear,

"Roran! It is I."

Roran started in surprise. He slowly turned his head to glance at his escort and was stunned to find the droopy-eyed features of Carn, albeit in the armor of an Empire soldier.

"How did you get here?" Roran whispered back.

"Long story, but trust me, everyone is here including Angela. It's part of the plan." Carn whispered back. Roran gave a furtive glance around the group and slowly but surely he began to recognize certain members of his original group.

"Angela will give the signal at the right moment. I've untied your bonds so you only need to free yourself by pulling them apart. I—"

Carn was cut off when the captain of the group, failing to persuade the guard, instead turned around and said curtly,

"Take them to the cells."

The captain, and seven other soldiers, who weren't the Varden, marched off to other affairs leaving the rest, including four enemy soldiers, to lead Roran and the others to the cells. A short soldier who had armor a bit too large, who Roran immediately recognized as Angela, led the way taking them to certain hallways as if knowing where to go. When they reached a completely empty hallway one of the Empire soldiers said,

"This isn't the right way, remember?"

As if on cue, the disguised members of the Varden drew their weapons and slew the four soldiers before they realized what happened, their bodies falling to the ground with dull thuds. Roran wrenched his hands apart and sure enough, the bonds broke free. Harald and Biled were completely shocked at the event, and Biled muttered,

"Now I thought the Empire didn't kill its own men, you utter scum!" But when the 'Empire' removed their helmets his jaw dropped in surprise. "You!" he exclaimed, "But, but how?"

"Quiet! I'll explain later." Angela hissed. The Varden returned their weapons to Roran and the others, and they dragged the four bodies into a nearby closet. Angela then muttered an inaudible spell, and the blood on the ground trailed off to another room and vanished from sight, leaving no trace of any fight. Finding a nearby armory room, the group rearmed themselves with bows or spears while Angela explained to Roran what had occurred.

"We did as you planned, and dressed ourselves in the soldiers we slew previously. But right as we entered the main street we found the group you saw with the captain. We told him that our captain was slain by a rogue group of spies, and led him to you. He would have killed you had I not have had one of the soldiers suggest that it was you. Through speaking through our minds, Carn and I relayed our new plan to the other group members." She finished.

Roran, not for the first time, reevaluated his view on the short-haired lady, from eccentric herbalist, to a significant Varden ally, and now to a clever, seasoned warrior.

"Of course I'm clever, how do you think you're still alive?" she said, which made Roran start, for he had been sure his mind had been protected from others. He ignored questioning her however, and instead picked up a small dagger and stuck it in his worn leather boots.

Sufficiently armed, the group stealthily wandered back to where the guards stood. Hiding behind an adjacent wall to the hallway, Roran said the group,

"The two best archers stay back at this wall. When I give the signal, fire at the guards as fast as you can. Our lives depend on it." The men nodded, and busied stringing their bows. When Roran saw that they were ready, he drew a spear he took from the armory and prepared to launch it at the guards.

_Ready, set—_

"Go!" Roran roared and whipped around the corner and threw his spear at the nearest guard, goring him through his chest. The man clutched the spear with eyes of shock, blood blooming on his lips as he spluttered to the ground.

The other guard yelped in surprise and blew a small horn at his waist before a pair of arrows sprouted from his throat, toppling the man to his knees. Immediately afterwards, there was a distant shout as a group of Empire soldiers appeared from another hidden hallway and charged the Varden. Roran squinted through the dim lighting and was relieved to see no crossbows or archers of the sort.

By now the remainder of the Varden had turned the corner and sent a menacing attack of arrows to the Empire, halting their advance, two men being killed by arrows. Roran drew his hammer and smashed at the doorway the sentries were guarding. The door shuddered and held for a moment, but broke open on the third swing.

"Inside! Quickly!" Roran shouted.

The Varden sent one more barrage of arrows before hurriedly entering the room. Harald and another man quickly shut the door, dragging whatever they could find to block the door. Roran gasped when he beheld the room. It was richly decorated, with thick maroon velvet curtains on one side, and a high reaching ceiling at least forty feet up. There was a long oak table with chairs along it, and at one end of it stood a very shocked looking man. He was dressed in a richly decorated tunic with gold stitching and a simple black cape flowing behind.

"Varden! Guards!" he exclaimed.

"Surrender, and lay down your weapons, if you wish to live!" Roran roared back.

The man, who Roran guessed to be Lord Bradburn, gritted his teeth and muttered, "I'll never surrender to you lot, you worthless scum! Just wait till you see what Murtagh has in store for you, and soon you'll be the one surrendering!"

Roran was confused by this, but his thoughts were interrupted by loud banging coming from the doorway. Harald and three other men were busy stacking chairs in front of the door, which was making a thunderous racket.

"Move the table too—" Roran began, before an enormous explosion flung him, Carn, and the others backwards in a chaotic pile of splintered wood, metal and pain.

His vision blurred from the blast, Roran shook himself fully conscious and was in shock to see the doorway had been smashed into splinters and a mass of Empire soldiers were swarming in. Staggering upright, Roran barely managed to raise his shield before a sword swung down at him. The blade impacted with a solid thud, but did not break the wood. Now fully recovered, Roran snarled and swung his hammer from under the shield, catching the attacker on the hand, breaking several fingers. The man dropped his sword, clutching at his hand in horror and shock, before Roran slew him with a blow to the head.

Carn, and Biled had managed to get up by now, while Angela groggily looked around her. One of the men barricading the door had been killed in the explosion, his gruesomely damaged body confirming Roran's observations. Roran yelled as he swung in a flurry of deadly blows at the Empire's soldiers. Though it was hopeless to think he could defeat them alone, Roran knew he was giving time for his comrades to recover. Carn was frantically scurrying around healing those who were injured with his bracelet. Harald had gotten back up and was in the melee as well. Though they were outnumbered, Roran and the others were far superior in skill than the common infantry of the Empire. Still, the battle was not without its struggles for Roran, who accumulated a number of injuries during the fighting. His knuckles were bloodied from constant hammering and smashing on armor, a sword blade glancing of his shield instead sliced a small slit in his calf, hobbling him. And there was the constant sweat in his eyes. At first Roran was shocked to find that Eragon's wards had failed him, but then it occurred to him that perhaps the explosion may have depleted his magical defenses.

The Empire's onslaught was beginning to weaken, and Roran was beginning to grow confident when a fireball flew from behind the Empire's ranks and smote the ground by Biled, exploding and killing him instantly. In shock, Roran whirled to the source of the flame. A lone magician, dressed apart from the others was chanting another spell, his hands above his head.

"Carn! You have to stop him!" Roran shouted desperately. Without question, this magician could easily defeat the small group if he kept up his attack. Roran was slightly relieved that it had not been Murtagh, though how this magician could have used magic that powerful, Roran did not know.

Carn was suddenly stock still, his eyes closed and his fingers twitching. The magician had also stopped the spell, and was engaged in a mental battle of wits with Carn. Roran redoubled his efforts, smashing and killing through the enemy ranks with a renewed frenzy. He was just feet from the spellcaster when a soldier dived at Roran's legs, tripping him and sending him into a brawl with the soldier. The soldier scratched and clawed at Roran's face, but Roran managed to get ahold of his dagger in his boot, and he stabbed the soldier twice in the upper back. The soldier grew limp, and Roran got up to see the spellcaster appeared to be bound by invisible bonds, his arms unnaturally close to his sides.

"I took over his mind, he can't run away now." Carn yelled triumphantly.

Whatever soldiers were remaining in the fight were quickly dispatched of, or bound if they surrendered. Harald rushed up to the spellcaster, sword drawn, when Roran halted him.

"Wait, we need him,"

"He killed Biled! Let's finish this maggot off!" Harald growled.

"He may have important information that Eragon might find useful. We should at least try." Roran reasoned with him.

"If you lot would stop arguing, then you might have noticed that Bradburn has escaped!" Angela shouted as she picked up her strange sword staff.

Roran cursed, as she was right; in the explosion and the fighting he had forgotten entirely of his mission to capture Bradburn before he escaped. He was unsure of what to do with the spellcaster, but judging from the way of things, it looked as if Carn's spell would hold.

"Could you maintain the bonds on him until we find Bradburn?" Roran asked Carn.

Carn nodded, and replied, "I can, but since I have control of him I'd be able to take the knowledge from him if you want."

"That would be better I suppose."

Carn then closed his eyes for a moment while he wrenched the knowledge from the spellcaster. When his eyes opened, he seemed confused and troubled, but he simply said, "It is done, though I cannot grasp what it means."

Quickly getting a head count, Roran saw that three of his men had been killed in the fight, one from the explosion, another from the magician, and the third after a dying soldier hamstrung him with a knife. No one else was seriously hurt, though all had been bloodied, even the herbalist, much to her annoyance. The short-haired lady gestured at the other end of the hall where a door lay, and Roran led the way, easily smashing through the thin beams of the door. He was overwhelmingly surprised when a heap of old broomsticks and dustpans came crashing down upon him in a cloud of dust. His comrades leapt back with blades drawn, equally surprised. It took them a moment to realize Roran was in no real harm, and they hurriedly helped Roran get out of the tangle of broomsticks.

Angela meanwhile, had not been so surprised, and she failed to stifle a chuckle at the sight of Roran in such a mess. Roran, whose cheeks flushed hot with embarrassment, attempted an air of some dignity. He whirled around at the giggling herbalist and he growled,

"What is the meaning of this? Did you know this would happen?"

Angela, unperturbed by the anger in his voice, replied, "Of course I couldn't have, for who barricades a door with broomsticks?"

"Old Bradburn does, that's who," said Carn, who had managed a toothy grin.

Roran, his mood thoroughly fouled, drew his hammer and marched through the doorway again. Behind lay a winding spiral stone staircase of some fifty or so feet in height. Roran decided to make up for his embarrassment by taking the stairs two at a time, outpacing his comrades. At the top Roran noticed there lay two doorways, though neither had a sign or mark upon it to differentiate their purpose.

_I'll have to try both._

While he waited for the rest of his group to catch up, Roran tested each doorknob; both were securely locked, and the wood of the door looked solid. Drawing his hammer, Roran raised it high above his head, bringing it down upon the left doorknob as Horst would in his forge upon a molten piece of iron, waiting to be crafted into another tool.

A loud ring filled Roran's ears, but he could discern no mark upon the knob. Trying again, he brought his hammer down with all his strength. The same tone of a ring pealed throughout the staircase, but again the knob remained intact.

"Stronghammer, powerful and skilled you may be, but I doubt even your abilities could break through an enchantment such as this." Harald said.

"The entire door is protected, and the other door as well. I checked." Carn added. Angela said nothing, though she seemed in deep concentration.

"Can you find any other weaknesses in the door at all, even just a crack?" Roran asked.

Carn frowned and answered, "I'll try, but unless the herbalist finds a way, I doubt any of us can break through the door, either by skill or strength. Whoever enchanted this made sure that nothing save a Dragon Rider could breach it."

Roran, dismayed, gave a glance at the herbalist to see if she was trying to breach the door as well. To his surprise, the woman was sitting on the ground, with her eyes closed, as if in deep concentration. He saw her mouth a few words, then the door on the left opened with a loud click.

"Inside!" Roran shouted before anything could happen.

He was glad he had. Moments after his command, a throng of Empire soldiers filled the void rapidly, with swords drawn. They met a wall of Varden shields, swords, and claws, as Solembum had appeared up the stairs and was busy mauling an unfortunate soldier. Roran gave a shout, and he proceeded to smash his way through the thicket of soldiers barring the doorway. Soon, the skirmish ceased as the Varden easily but messily killed of the Empire's attack. Roran cautiously entered, and his comrades followed close behind.

Inside, they did not spot any sign of Bradburn, only a row of bunks, and a small table with empty mugs. As the last member of the group walked in, a loud bang resounded outside. Suddenly, another swarm of Empire soldiers charged through, sword's flashing. They slew two of the Varden before Roran could shout, "Behind you!"

The surprise attack felled another man that was caught unawares before the rest of the group launched a counterattack. Roran ducked under a swinging blade and smashed the knee of the attacker with his hammer. Another swing of the hammer ended the soldier's misery. Barely dodging another sword, Roran struck the blade, shattering it and rendering it useless. Continuing his swing, Roran spun around in an arc and struck the sword owner's helmet, which crumpled easily under his mighty blow. Retreating to the back of the fight, Roran saw Carn busy chanting, small flecks of spittle flying form his mouth. A soldier broke through the fray, and charged towards Carn, and Roran leapt in the way, parrying the death-dealing blow with his hammer, then punched the soldier in the eye with his free hand. The soldier staggered back howling, clutching his eye, and Roran finished him off with his hammer. After their initial attack, the Empire's efforts decreased to a point where the Varden began driving them back out into to the stairway. Roran avoided the fighting and instead went into the other room along with Carn, who had stopped chanting and joined him with his sword drawn.

"No! I will not surrender to you wretched filth!"

A lone man, who Roran identified as Bradburn, ran at him with his regal robes flapping wildly behind, with an overly decorated sword drawn. Roran lazily waited until the last moment, and stepped aside just as the lord clumsily swung his blade, slicing nothing but air. Then Roran knocked the sword out of the man's hands, and he put his dagger to the lord's throat before he even realized what had just occurred.

"I… you, but how?"

"Tell your men to surrender now, or else we'll slaughter them." Roran said menacingly.

The man sneered and attempted to spit in Roran's face, but couldn't because of the blade pressed on his throat. Though he despised the man, Roran couldn't help but feel impressed at the lord's bravado, given the circumstances. Carn reached forward and pressed his hand over the man's face, and began a silent chant, attempting to cast a spell or enter the lord's mind. Roran then shouted,

"Drop your weapons! We have your lord at our mercy!"

The fighting quieted considerably, and then Roran heard the indistinct clatter of weapons, followed by a few cheers. Angela rushed in, and when she saw what Carn was doing, she also placed her hand on the man's face and began her mental assault. Immediately, Roran noticed the man tense, his neck cords bulging. A few silent moments went by, until the lord gave a cry, and Angela smiled with triumph.

"His mind is ours!" Carn crowed.

"And not a particularly bright one either." Angela muttered, though she still appeared slightly smug about her accomplishment.

Roran smiled at their success, and he set about organizing his group for when Eragon came. He could already begin to hear the sounds of fighting nearby, and the distant roars of Saphira.

_Katrina, my love, I did it, _he thought.

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><p><strong>And so Roran is a boss and does the impossible, as usual. Not a big deal.<strong>

**What do you think? It'll be Eragon's POV next, but what should he do/happen? More EXA (sorely missing from Inheritance, SORRY), or Galbatorix plans, or skip to Dras Leona? Not sure.**

**To all my readers who also happen to write, please, PLEASE, don't be discouraged by the fact that the series is over that you have to stop as well. It would make me sad, sadder than I am right now.**

**It's been so long, I nearly forgot replies!**

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><p><strong>Reply to <strong>_**SimplySupreme: **_**And those dolphins are happy dolphins indeed! You need to update soon, for both I Am Arya and Land of a Mad King. Such amazing stories…**

**Reply to **_**Princess Arya:**_** Thanks!:) Drama then in the school year then, I'm assuming? **

**Reply to **_**RestrainedFreedom: **_**Well now you know! Was it good? Or 'eh…'? I hope at least believable.**

**Reply to **_**elleme123: **_**nice to see a new face, I changed it so I hope it pleases you!**

**Reply to **_**Massa:**_** Thanks mucho. It's refreshing from Roran's point of view.**

**Reply to **_**tethika: **_**I'm so sorry it took so long, I had school, then football season is incredibly demanding, as I keep forgetting haha**

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><p><strong>Book 4 huh. Well you have your thoughts. Happy reading! More reviews=faster chapter uploads (for real this time!)<strong>


	9. Decisions, Decisions

**I'm back! Back from the moldy grave of writer's block, I have grinded out a chapter to please all my (probably nonexistent) readers until I can pull another one out of my… **

**Moving on!**

**Thanks to all my reviewers! Also be sure to check out my new-ish fic, it's where I'm contemplating what else to write while this one slowly progresses.**

**Super Bowl today! Not that I actually care, but the commercials **_**are **_**worth it. And to my readers overseas, the Super Bowl is probably the only championship in the world where 75% of the watchers don't even know who's playing.**

**But enough of me, read on!**

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><p>Eragon woke with a start.<p>

After the battle of Belatona, Eragon had been pleased to know that his cousin, as well as the others had successfully captured Lord Bradburn single-handedly. Eragon then rejoined Nasuada, Arya, and the other dignitaries in a deserted house, healing injured soldiers along the way. As ever, Eragon was the last one there, with even Roran present before him. The discussions were brief; each person gave their account of the battle, and any noticeable details along the way. Roran's tale was longest of all, with everyone congratulating him on his success.

Eragon spoke with Arya again back to the tents, and while he yearned to spend more time with her, he knew that they both had to rest for the work that lay the next day. Eragon fell asleep listening to the steady, deep breathing of Saphira, and it comforted him.

Then came the dreams.

They were tangled and garbled in a discordant potpourri, until one rose above the rest,

_A sky of black and red filled his vision. Smoke billowed out in all directions, and all Eragon could hear were the unmistakable screams and cries of men dying. The smoke and haze clouded what little sights he could see in the night air. Suddenly a thunderous roar erupted above Eragon, and he could just make out the crimson blur of a flying—_

And so Eragon awakened, sometime very early in the morning. Saphira had awakened with him and she asked.

_Do you think it was another of your premonitions?_

_I don't know, but if it is, then we shall meet Thorn very soon in our future if it comes to pass._

_Good, _Saphira growled, _the hatchling-blood-traitor will pay for what he did to our teachers, even if Galbatorix did control them._

_My only concern is if he made Murtagh even stronger than before. I don't know if the elves and I will be strong enough to win next time._

_We should see if Glaedr has awakened yet._

Eragon agreed, and he cast the spell to summon Glaedr's eldunarí. The dirt below his tent began to bubble, as if in a steamy cauldron, and then a small chest emerged from the opening. Eragon had cast a spell preventing anyone from summoning the eldunarí directly without his permission, instead only allowing the chest it was hidden in to emerge. Carefully unlocking and unclasping the chest open, Eragon gently place his palm with the gedwey ignasia onto the eldunarí.

_Gone! Gone!_

The thought echoed throughout Eragon's thoughts, although it wasn't as agonizing as before, and had instead acquired a darker, withdrawn mood. With a sigh, Eragon removed his hand from Glaedr and closed the chest, casting it back into its hiding place.

_He has yet to recover still. _Eragon said dejectedly.

_He still needs more time. I think he will let us know when he is ready._

_Even so, we need him if we are to have a chance at defeating Galbatorix._

Unable to return to sleep, Eragon shaved, got dressed, and he exited his tent to spend time thinking about what had occurred. On his walk, he encountered a few men kindling the smoldering fires of the night before. Many kept to themselves in the early morning, though a few did cheer, "Hail Shadeslayer!"

Eragon gave a nod each time, and he proceeded to walk aimlessly around camp. Engrossed in his thoughts about his dream, he failed to notice that he had wandered into the Urgal encampment on the outskirts of the Varden. Noticing his location, Eragon was curious to see how Urgals made camp, especially away from their villages.

It was nothing too unusual, with the same light brown canvas tents that the rest of the Varden used, only theirs were about twice the size of an ordinary man's, and Eragon guessed they could house a least three men comfortably. More Urgals were awake than the humans, and they greeted Eragon with grunts and vague gestures.

"Firesword, what brings you to our camp?"

Eragon turned to the unmistakable rough voice of Nar Garzhvog. The Kull had risen from the campfire and bared his neck towards Eragon in a sign of respect.

Eragon indicated he had heard, and then replied,

"I didn't notice where I had walked, though now that I am here, how fared you in the battle?"

Garzhvog made the _ruk ruk _noise of his laughter and he answered,

"It went well! Many rams had received much glory in defeating the _drajl_ king's city."

Eragon nodded. It was only to be expected, though Eragon was often confused when the Kull referred to 'glory' as the number of soldiers they had killed, or if they had died in battle. Rather than broach the topic, Eragon instead moved on to the plans of the day,

"What has Nasuada organized you to do today?"

Garzhvog replied, "Lady Nightstalker has left us in charge of defending our campsite, as she thinks bringing us into the city any further will spell distrust between the city and the Varden."

Eragon agreed, though he answered, "True, but don't they already fear and hate us enough thanks to Galbatorix?"

Garzhvog didn't immediately answer, and he instead replied, "We trust Nightstalker's decisions, for only she can bring peace to our race and yours once the Black King is dead."

After talking with Garzhvog, Eragon continued on his walk, meeting more and more men as the morning progressed. The men's spirits rose as they saw Eragon walk past, but they kept their distance, not wanting to trouble their Rider form his thoughts.

_Little One, Nasuada and the others seek your presence._

Eragon turned back towards the center of camp and he replied, _I'll be there. But why didn't she send a messenger?_

_Because she does not know where you are, and I did not tell her._

_Of course._

When Eragon entered the tent, he sighed inwardly at what he knew was going to happen. Assembled in her tent was all of her battle advisors, including Jörmunder, Arya, Orrin, and, he was mildly surprised to find, Roran. Elva was seated towards the back of the tent, having chosen today of all days to partake in the Varden's activities. Eragon nodded towards Arya, who gave such a slight inclination of her head that anyone else might not have noticed, but to Eragon, it was all he needed.

Nasuada began, "Now that Eragon is here, we can begin our planning for the day. As I'm sure you all know, we have learned much from the siege of Feinster, enough to know that taking the city is one thing, but securing it is another, far more difficult task. Keeping a city's inhabitants under control is for a competent, dependable leader, but I do not wish to lose another commander as we draw nearer to Urû'baen, but I fear we have no choice.

"In light of this, I have decided to expend the Varden's efforts, for a short period of time, to do a thorough city-wide search for those still in the king's service. We all know they are scattered throughout the city, ready to retaliate when we are not watching or when we leave. I wish to leave as few soldiers here as possible, and to feasibly do this, I want the entire Varden's efforts, even you Saphira, to secure this city as thoroughly as possible."

The people in the tent murmured amongst themselves at this, and Orrin asked,

"And just what do you think my people will think of this? We have few supplies and men as is, and we cannot tarry while the King may amass another army to strike us at this very minute."

Nasuada cut above the noise and answered, "Because Aroughs is still unconquered and they still pose a threat to us. That is why I will also send some men to go and take the city as well. I doubt Galbatorix would have sent an army. Why would he? As you say, we grow weaker every day, so why not wait until we arrive, weak and in ill-hopes?"

The chatter died down then, but Orrin spoke up, "And just who do you think you will send? I cannot be spared, neither can Eragon or Saphira, and we'll need Jörmunder and everyone else here as well. How—,"

Nasuada sternly replied, "Because I will send Roran to go lead the siege."

Silence ensued. Eragon was shocked at this; having just taken Belatona singlehandedly, to send Roran immediately again on an equally risky mission alarmed Eragon. As for Roran, Eragon could decipher no real emotions from his expression, and he didn't want to intrude upon Roran's thoughts.

When no one spoke up, Nasuada continued, "I didn't want to make this public, but now that you all know, I trust you won't spread this message carelessly. I wish to speak with Roran now privately, this meeting is finished."

As the various nobles and battle advisors left, Eragon cast a glance at Arya. The elf did not betray her emotions easily, as Eragon knew, and only someone who had spent time around her could see that she was also as troubled, albeit not as personally, as Eragon was. She looked back at him with here deep emerald eyes. Neither spoke until Eragon questioned,

_Do you agree with Nasuada?_

Arya replied, _Let us speak outside, in the morning air. But yes, I do see her reasons._

Eragon departed, with Arya following behind, leaving just Nasuada and Roran inside the tent to discuss whatever they had to.

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><p>After Arya and Eragon had left, Roran turned, expecting Nasuada to inundate him with various reasons of why this mission should go well.<p>

Instead, he was surprised to see her sigh and slump into her chair. He realized that she was clearly fatigued from the happenings, even if she never showed it before her subjects.

"You're surprised to see me like this, aren't you?" she asked tiredly.

Roran politely nodded, unsure of what she was getting on to.

"I don't want to show them how I've been of late; it would only sow doubt and dissent. I think you understand that you also had to appear strong before your village."

Roran agreed, she was right about feigning invincibility in front of those who follow him.

Nasuada continued, "I am sending you to Aroughs because they are still supporting the King and will undoubtedly strike sometime in the future. But as I'm sure you know, winter is coming, and what we can't afford is them striking our much needed supply trains. They aren't a large enough threat at the moment for us to send a full contingent, but I did send a battalion there to make sure they don't cause any trouble. Now I want to secure it once and for all, and I'm certain you could use your talents to secure the city."

Roran thought a moment, and then replied, "Surely there's a commanding officer already there?"

Nasuada nodded, "Yes, Captain Brigman is doing his job just fine, but he lacks creativity, something essential in taking a city, especially with an, to be brutally honest, inadequate amount of manpower. If worse comes to worst, I'll send a full force, but I'd rather not, seeing as we are already barely large enough to take Dras Leona."

Roran was silent afterward, contemplating what she had described. _How long will this mission last? And how long will I be staying there?_

"Will I be able to bring men with me?"

Nasuada nodded. "Take any five men you wish. Bring a magician too, if you can."

Roran had already chosen Carn as well as Baldor and some others to join him. He then ventured the question that had nagged him.

"How long will this take?"

Nasuada frowned, calculating in her mind. "It is roughly a five day hard ride there, and I'll give you another five days to take the city. I hope sooner, because I'll have to assemble another army before the five days are up anyways."

Roran was in disbelief. _Five days to take an entire barricaded city? With less than a thousand men?_

Nasuada must have read his mind, or discerned his expression, for she said, "I know it sounds daunting, but I know what you are capable of Roran Garrowsson."

Roran felt a touch of pride at her words, but doubt still clawed at his belly. However he knew his duty, and that if he succeeded, he could save hundreds of lives for the Varden. Still, the fear of failure overshadowed his thoughts.

"If you agree, and I'm sure you will, you shall leave tomorrow at dawn. You and the men you choose are excused from today's work in preparation. Do you accept?"

Roran was a long time in answering. He knew his duty, he knew what it would mean for the Varden, and in the long run, if they succeeded in defeating the Black King, what it would mean for his village and his family. But…

Roran cast his doubt aside, focusing only on succeeding in his mission. He nodded firmly and answered, "I am yours to command."

Nasuada seemed relieved, but she merely nodded and said, "Now, go do what you must. We shall not march on Dras Leona until we succeed."

Roran bowed and left, giving the Nighthawks a long cold stare as he left. He went to where Carn's tent was and he knocked on the wood post twice, then Carn opened the folds of the tent. Seeing Roran, he smiled cordially and cried, "Roran! What brings you here? I was just about to leave to help some other spellcasters find other magicians in the city."

Roran grinned slightly, he was always happy around Carn's excitable personality.

"There's no need. Lady Nasuada sent me on another mission, and I need a spellcaster. Do you wish to come?"

Carn's smile faded into puzzlement, and he began toying with the bracelet Eragon had given him before asking, "Where is the mission? I was hoping for no more long journeys until Dras Leona."

Roran sighed, "Me too, but this is of utmost importance. She is sending us to Aroughs."

Carn paled, his pale skin, losing what color it had left. "That far? I thought we had already taken it."

Roran shook his head. "No we only have it under watch, but Nasuada wants to secure it for good so it doesn't cause us any trouble later."

Carn shook his head, "So it's going to be a small party going? Even worse! I can stand a steady march, but you mean a fast hard journey don't you?"

"Yes, I hate it just as much as you, but it _is _necessary. The question still stands, do you want to come?"

Carn was quiet a moment, then abruptly stood and began gathering clothes and his armor.

"Was that a yes?" Roran tentatively asked.

Carn looked slightly confused. "I'm packing aren't I?"

Roran grinned. "Meet me at the south edge of camp at dawn tomorrow."

* * *

><p><strong>Done! I am shouty today.<strong>

**Yes this is a bit of a filler, but I had to actually split up the chapters full of events. Balance is the ultimate goal of all aspects of life I think, and difficult to reach.**

**Again, be sure to check out the other fic and put in your opinion on what I should write next!**

**To **_**IronMikeTyson: **_**Thanks man! I didn't like the ending either, but I can understand why CP did what he did.**

**To **_**RestrainedFreedom: **_**Roran is such a lovely character to write about. Although I'm running out of synonyms to describe him braining a soldier with his hammer. :) Never thought I'd say that. Eragon POV coming soon though.**

**To **_**Klydden: **_** Why thank you! I wanted it to be as realistic as possible, but still my kind of style. The two might conflict if I try to change CP's plot, or his use of **_deus ex machina. _**I liked it, but I want my own version of it also. Hmmm. Who knows?**

To everyone else who struggles to find the review button (that must be the reason isn't it?) every time you don't review, Galbatorix gets one step closer to figuring out the Name!


	10. Revelations

**Well hello everyone! Miss me? At least this isn't the slowest upload ive ever done. Ah well. :)**

**I appreciate all the hits, and the favorites and shtuff, but one review guys last chapter. ONE. I hope I'm not asking for too much here, and if this chapter gets that kind of treatment then... i dont know i might have to quit altogether!**

**Just kidding, but i do wanna emphasize that the reviews are what keeps this story going. Lets say 50 reviews and chapter 11 will be at most 1 week from that alright? So if its 50 in 1 day, a week later (tops) itll be out, if it takes 5, 6 days... you know where im going.**

**This is a shoutout to RestrainedFreedom, the only person to review last chapter... you're a boss! :D**

**Alrighty then, i hope you enjoy! See you at the bottom:**

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><p>Roran arose before dawn. Rising out of bed as gently as possible so as to not wake Katrina, he quickly garbed himself in a traveling tunic, laced his soft leather boots and stepped outside his tent.<p>

His pack of armor, food, and bedding lay by the tent, and a dark brown horse, for Roran would not bring Snowfire, was tied to a stake. In the dim light of the predawn, Roran could see the faint smoke trails of old fires from the night before. Roran quickly ducked back inside his tent to retrieve his hammer, and he gave Katrina a soft kiss on her forehead. She softly mumbled something but did not awaken. A small smile grew on his face as he left, and he shouldered his pack and walked the horse to the edge of camp where he had chosen the day before.

The ground was wilder here, with less packed earth and more vegetation, although there still was a small hump of earth as a temporary defense against attackers, as well as a row of sharp staves, barely discernible in the low light. Roran was surprised to see that all of his men he had chosen were there and waiting. There was Carn, garbed in a sort of half robe, half tunic arrangement, Baldor, with a tunic much like Roran's and a short sword at his waist, Mandel, whom Roran had grown a liking to and was also proven quite adept with a blade, and two others, not from Carvahall but men Roran had served with under Martland Redbeard and trusted. Everyone had packs of roughly the same size, and they all had horses built for endurance, rather than speed. Roran nodded to each man in turn, and they returned with a sharp nod of their own. Tying his pack to the saddle, Roran mounted the horse, and the other men followed suit. Taking the lead of the group, Roran cried, "For the Varden!"

"The Varden!" they shouted, and with a spur of their reins, the group stormed off into the distance, the sun rising in its pale yellow glory.

* * *

><p>Eragon rose, the sun having barely risen. He had had a good day before, first talking with Arya as he walked her to her tent, and then spending the majority of the day working with his fellow comrades in establishing full control of Belatona. Overhead Saphira circled, making her presence clear to all below. Eragon took comfort in working with the Varden; they treated him with respect and awe, but as he worked the menial tasks they had been assigned, digging entrenchments, recording amounts of grains and other supplies, even making bawdy jokes at the women in the city, he felt he was going back to his roots as a simple farm boy. He knew he had changed too much to ever return back to it, but he found it humbling to remember what it was like before being a Dragon Rider.<p>

Later, after all the work had been done, Nasuada allowed the Varden a reward by breaking open some of Belatona's supplies and setting up a feast, with the fine wines and casks of beer passed around, and cook fires rather than burial fires filling the night air. Some of the Varden had even brought out their reeds and pipes, filling the air with simply dirges and melodies. In the area where Eragon supped, two of the elves began singing a soft melodious tune that was wistful yet cheerful. Eragon broke out smiling at the sound of their voices, and the men around them had stopped eating to enjoy their music. Eragon enjoyed this time immensely for it gave him plenty of time to converse with Arya, something he knew he would never get tired of. They talked of anything and everything, from the events of the day before, to the possibilities of dragons outside Alagaësia, even to how many casks of mead Saphira had drank, which she had insisted was only three.

_Even a dragon must know moderation_ she grumbled.

Arya had trilled her laugh at this, and Eragon couldn't help grinning also.

Eragon knew these sort of things would not last, not until they had defeated Galbatorix, but he also realized this would boost the morale considerably, and would make taking Dras Leona easier, though how Eragon did not know. After the feasting had ended, Eragon opened his mind around the Varden, and was pleased to find the general mood content, the horrors of battle temporarily forgotten. Nasuada had been wise enough not to allow too many drinks, for they had much work to do the next day, but she did permit them some liberties.

Eragon's happiness was dimmed somewhat when he tried to awaken Glaedr, but to no avail, the old dragon still wallowed in self-pity and anguish. His thoughts then drifted to his cousin, when he realized with a jolt: _Here I am, feasting with my friends and comrades, and he is stuck in a miserable saddle inevitably leading to a battle._

_He'll be fine, and the southern wilderness isn't as bad as up in the Spine _replied Saphira.

Eragon sighed. _I know, but it feels wrong to be feasting while he goes someplace to fight._

_True, but what he does is necessary if it means we are to win. And besides, the sufferings of a few are nothing compared to the hope and energy Nasuada gave to the rest today._

Eragon sighed; it was difficult arguing with the logic of a dragon. Undressing his outer garments, he sank into his cot and stared up at the grey fabric of his tent canvas. After nearly an hour without sleep, he rolled back out of bed and went out into the moonlight.

_What is it? _Saphira sleepily said.

_Can't sleep, _Eragon replied tiredly. Saphira unfurled one of her wings, and Eragon huddled close to her bulk, glad for the warmth. The summer nights had chilled and had begun to have a definite edge to them, Eragon noticed. Within minutes, he was soon falling asleep; lulled by the heat of Saphira's body, and the comforting presence of her mind, cocooning Eragon's in a protective shell.

* * *

><p>Cold water splashed onto Eragon's face, waking him with a jolt. The morning drowsiness was now gone, and he proceeded to shave his beard with magic, roughly combed his hair with his fingers, realizing how long it was since he last cut it, and quickly dressed in an elven tunic he had been given, although he did make sure to make it appear humanlike, with the traditional leather boots and a standard leather vest rather than the elven one, for he did not wish to alienate his comrades further by looking any more elfish, but at the same time he secretly hoped his looks would please Arya, if he looked more elf-like.<p>

_You're hopeless, _Saphira chuckled.

Eragon ignored her comment, and belted on Brisingr, though he doubted he would need it, and he saddled Saphira. They flew out to Nasuada's tent, and the Nighthawks made way for him as they landed. Entering the tent, Eragon was surprised to see that no one else was there besides Nasuada apart from Orrin. The man had a small scratch on his chin, but otherwise he appeared the same.

"Eragon, it has come to my attention now that numerous reports of small raids have occurred yesterday in the city."

Eragon nodded, it was only to be expected from a newly conquered people.

"Were they an organized series of attacks?"

Nasuada shook her head. "It doesn't appear so, but there are rumors that these attacks were of the magical sort, and powerful magic too if the reports are correct."

Eragon frowned. If there had been powerful magicians, why hadn't Eragon encountered them in the battle? True, he had fought some powerful mages, but they seemed to possess an outward source of power. _Wouldn't we have been able to detect them when we were in the city? _he asked Saphira.

_I don't know Little One, but I'm sure if they didn't want to be found, we wouldn't have found them even if we looked._

A trickle of worry wormed through Eragon's mind. "So do you wish me to find the cause of this?"

Nasuada nodded. "You and the elves will search the city for these magicians, and make sure to try and take them alive."

"If they didn't want to die, wouldn't they have surrendered sooner?" Eragon asked.

Nasuada sighed, "Yes, but see if you can anyways. We lost four of the Du Vrangr Gata yesterday and we're short on spellcasters regardless, which is why I'm sending you and the elves. You can relay the information through Trianna if you encounter anything."

"I do not question that we could, for I doubt they would be strong enough. I only think that these mages, even more so than the soldiers, would have been bound in the Ancient Language to Galbatorix. Surely there is no option but to kill them, to release them from their bonds?"

Nasuada, exasperated, replied, "I know of this too Eragon. I am not a fool. Very well if you must, then they may die. But I'd rather we get the information we need. The uncanny power of these sorcerers is what worries me."

Eragon bowed slightly. "Of course I do not doubt your intellect my Lady. I merely wanted to dispel any hope of bringing them to our cause."

Nasuada nodded, handed Eragon a map of Belatona, then in a commanding tone, said, "Go now then, and good luck."

Eragon bowed once more, and then left the tent with Saphira and the elves. Making his way back into his tent, he changed his clothes, from a casual fit to a more active one, which was basically his combat gear. He didn't wear his hauberk or any substantial armor, but he did but slip on a heavier leather shirt, with small mail inserts on the sides and a thicker hard-leather portion on his back. He changed into the combat boots he normally wore, and he wore leather bracers as well, hidden under his sleeves. Eragon wasn't a vain person; he preferred cloaks and chaps to flowery robes and fine jackets. Even so, he did possess enough to look presentable as befitted a Dragon Rider, but also clothing to suit his tastes, preferring function, not form.

_I am not the poor farm boy I once was, with clothes only for winter and summer, and a cloak year round. _He thought with a wry smile.

Stepping outside, he rejoined Saphira and instructed the elves on his mission for the day.

Blödhgarm listened while Eragon spoke, then replied, "As you say Shadeslayer. I believe that all of us want to know the root of these magicians' powers, especially concerning the glyphs they carry."

The other elves murmured assent, then fell quiet as Saphira opened her massive wings.

_I shall meet you at the city gates. _

And without another word she took off into the air towards the city.

Eragon and the elves began making their way to the city. After the battle was over, Nasuada had moved the Varden closer to Belatona, although they did not yet reside inside the city walls. Eragon and the elves were the final step in making sure no real threats remained in the city. On the edge of the encampment Eragon was startled to hear a voice,

"Did Nasuada send you to find those magicians?"

He turned around, and found the voice to be Angela's, with Solembum standing by her feet.

Eragon cursed inwardly. How did the witch seem to know _everything_ that seemed to occur in the Varden?

"If you really must know, then yes I am. Don't you have any chores or duties Nasuada sent you to do?" he said stiffly.

Angela chuckled. "Me? She wouldn't dare make me do the menial and boring things the others have to do." Solembum growled softly at this, and Angela continued, "No, I think I'll join you in this mission of yours. I'm just as curious as you lot are, and I _always_ get my questions answered."

And with that she followed them in suit, although when he had given her permission to join, Eragon did not know.

_Is the woman worthy of our trust? _Blödhgarm inquired.

Eragon hesitated, then answered _She has not failed us before,_ and Blödhgarm said no more.

Saphira lie waiting just inside the city gates, with a small crowd of children surrounding her scaly bulk. They seemed to have forgotten the ferocity she had displayed during the battle earlier.

_Of course they would, for nothing, not even war, nor fear, could compete with beauty of a dragon. _Saphira said smugly.

_If you say so, _replied Eragon, amused.

The children scattered when they saw the arrival of Eragon, although some did point at Blödhgarm and gape at his furred body. The elf gave them no notice.

Eragon pulled out the map Nasuada had given him and examined it. Reports had said that there were frequent attacks in the northwestern part of the city. Eragon groaned as he discovered most of that part of the city was narrow alleys and side roads, which he knew was so that Saphira could not join in their search.

_Whoever is behind this knows exactly what they're dealing with._

_Which must mean that they are directly commanded by the King. _Saphira observed.

Eragon folded the map and led the group further into the city. Saphira kept beside them while she could, they took to the air as the streets grew narrower. Eragon noticed that as they went, the city conditions worsened, with smaller and dirtier buildings as well as rough cobblestone paths rather than paved streets. Soon, the group had to bunch together to pass through.

Eragon warily cast his mind out for anything unusual. As he expected, he detected nothing but normal people in their houses and the occasional dog in the streets. Solembum seemed on edge, his tail flicking about nervously. Eragon abruptly stopped then, causing the group to run in to one another.

Apologizing, Eragon said, "I think if we are to find the magicians, we should split up to find them faster. They would rather face two than fourteen at once.

Blödhgarm nodded, "Tis true, but it also puts at risk if we are separated. The better to divide and disorient us as it is."

Eragon agreed, "I understand, so I think that we should all be hearing distance of one another, just in case."

The group agreed, and split into pairs, with Eragon and Blödhgarm together. Weaving through the streets, they each called out when the street was deemed clear. Eragon concentrated on something, anything that may be abnormal. Sensing something he rushed to the third house on his left, a light tan one, without any windows. He tested the door but it was firmly locked. Throwing his weight against it, the door easily gave way and Eragon burst into a dimly lit room full of,

"Flour," he said, dumbstruck. "Flour—"

At that moment, a cry was heard somewhere off in the distance.

_Shadeslayer, they have attacked us! _cried an elf called Lithuí.

Eragon cursed and stormed out as fast as he could, with Blödhgarm following close behind.

_Someone has attacked. Be on the look out! _Eragon warned the others. He located the elves in trouble and he weaved until he nearly ran into a short black haired magician. The man was muttering something rapidly, the air shimmering before him. Eragon growled and drew Brisingr and swung the blade, intending to lop off the man's head. The blade skittered off some invisible armor, wrenching his wrist.

Eragon gasped in pain and surprise. _His wards are _that _strong?_

Eragon tried launching a mental attack on the man, but he was blocked by a wall of ice within the man's mind. Eragon could find no purchase, but to his shock he saw one of the elves also occupied, obviously in a mental struggle.

_He's fighting two elves at the same time? _Eragon swore.

"Shadeslayer there are three of them." Blödhgarm called urgently.

Eragon noticed the others just as the elf informed him, and he was suddenly attacked by a ferocious mental assault from one of the said magicians. Hurriedly casting his mental barriers around him, Eragon launched a counterattack of his own, but to no avail. In the midst of the mental struggle, Eragon detachedly noted that the assaults on his mind were nothing like the Twins or any truly powerful magicians, they were blunt and rough, using brute force rather than worming its way through. With that in mind, Eragon altered his barriers to match this sort of attack, and he could focus more on breaking the magician's own defenses.

Honing his attack to a needle point, he jabbed at the man's consciousness, causing flares of energy to appear around the man's defenses. The magician did not give in so easily though, and continued his relentless mental pounding. Eragon redoubled his efforts, poking his way at every point in the man's mental armor. Slowly, bit by bit, he was wearing down the strength of the man, until suddenly an elf joined forces with him, and together, crushed through the man's consciousness and binding him before any harm could be done.

Once he had succeeded, Eragon joined the others in fighting the attackers, which took successively less time for each man until they faced the original attacker. The man, strong as he was, was no match for the combined might of a Dragon Rider and twelve elves plus a witch and her werecat.

Eragon thrust his mind into the man's, and he took control of the man's magical powers, preventing him from attacking anymore.

"Letta." Intoned one of the elves and the man's shaking limbs were frozen, bound by invisible shackles.

Eragon stepped in front of the man's vision and asked, "Who are you, and who is your master?"

The man said nothing, only giving Eragon a look of pure hate.

Eragon sighed. "I could just take it from your memories, but I'd rather you not go crazy from the pain. You wouldn't want that would you?" he said menacingly.

The man paled slightly at this, but his look did not fade.

"My name, is Dramen,"

"For whom do you serve?"

The man said nothing, but he flicked his eyes towards the north.

_As if towards Urû'baen . _Eragon thought.

"You put up quite the fight you know, considering that you fought elves and a Dragon Rider. The Varden could use people like you," Eragon continued, although this was just small talk; he would never trust this man in the Varden.

The man's eyes bulged and he tried spitting on Eragon, but missed.

"I curse the Varden, and everyone in it. Long may they rot in their graves once the Master wipes them out!"

"The Master?" Eragon inquired.

The man seemed to freeze even more than he was, realizing his mistake.

"That's none of your concern," he spat, "the elves are corrupt and fat, and you consort with them, even adopting their looks!"

_That's odd. _Eragon thought, _I've heard that before._

"Be as that may, the information will be ours, regardless. You cannot hope to outlast the lot of us."

The man's eyes glowed, "None of you can hope to outlast the Master's power. He could sweep you aside like leaves before a storm!"

Eragon was about to reply when an elf interjected, "Enough Shadeslayer, the man will tell us nothing. Let us take it from his mind and be done with it!"

Eragon wanted to protest. He knew what it was like having someone look _through _him, the agony of a foreign presence in his mind. He did not think this, man, bound by his oaths as he was, deserved this.

"Remember what the Varden suffered because of these men." Blödhgarm softly growled.

Eragon remembered, and he decided with a sigh that for time's sake, the man must suffer through the ordeal.

_Blödhgarm, will you help me in discovering what we need and no more?_

_As you say Shadeslayer._

With a grunt, Eragon joined minds with Blödhgarm and they dived into the man's consciousness. Dramen screamed again, and Eragon winced as the pain bloomed inside the man's mind.

Rushes of memories past swum by in a flurry, and Eragon struggled to make sense of it all. Scraps of knowledge stuck in Eragon's vision, people talking, town's burning, and an overwhelming hatred of the world.

Then, like water bursting from a dam, the memory Eragon sought drowned out all other images:

He was in a vast cavernous room, with tapestries adorning one wall, and great glass windows the other. The ceiling seemed to rise hundreds of feet into the air, and the stillness in the air strangely alarmed him. It was undoubtedly night time, and rows of torches adorned the sides of the room. Then, Dramen/Eragon could see a richly adorned throne approaching, with massive black curtains behind it. A lone figure, dark and shadowed in the torchlight was seated on the regal chair.

'What is your name?' A Voice, silky and well-practiced spoke, unmistakably from the seated figure.

'My, m'names Dramen.' Said the man nervously.

'Dramen? Tis a good name for one like you. Full of potential.'

Eragon detected a burst of pride coming from the man at these words, and the Voice continued, 'If you join me, Dramen, I could make you powerful, powerful beyond imagination. Towns would cower beneath your feet, and even the elves would respect you.'

A memory of Dramen's childhood bloomed to Eragon, memories of being taunted for his small size, his strange dark hair, the strange magic he sometimes randomly cast, and his drunken father who beat him every night.

Rage boiled in Dramen, and he thirst for revenge made up his mind. When the Voice recognized the fire It had awoken within the man, and with a mesmerizingly soft tone, It said, 'Join me, cast your allegiance with me and you shall have your revenge.'

The man kneeled and with an emotional voice said, 'I pledge myself to you, and will do your bidding.'

'Excellent' the Voice crooned.

Then the memory flashed to when the man pledged in the Ancient Language to the Voice, which belonged to a hidden man, who could not be seen through the man's eyes, and the oath bound him to Its services forever.

The memories flashed by again, of the man's training in magic and combat, until an image presented itself into Eragon's mind.

'You have worked hard, and your efforts have paid off.' The Voice spoke.

Dramen bowed. 'Yes my Master, but I still do not feel powerful. Strong and skilled yes, but not _powerful_.' He said the word in reverence, in a hopeful longing.

'Soon,' the Voice said, 'soon you will, but for one more task.'

'What is it? Tell me, and I shall do as you command,' the man said fervently.

'I know you will, there is no doubt of that. Servants, fetch me…' and the Voice said something that sounded like _murr-tag_, but Dramen paid it no mind. It was probably a special servant of the Voice's anyways. Within a few minutes, a tall, dark haired man strode into the room, his visage proud but also reserved, his eyes like shards of ice.

_Murr-tag_ the Voice said again, and the man stiffened and faced the Voice.

'You shall tutor this man in the magic I taught you.'

'As you wish,' the man said, his voice brittle but betraying nothing. 'But the man is not strong enough to handle the spells,'

'You shall give him this, which shall aid him in his lessons.' The Voice's hand extended, and Dramen thought he could see several rings glittering in the torchlight. The hand held a large round object, the size of a loaf of bread, with strange twisted writing upon it.

The _murr-tag _man took the object and held it in the crook of his arm.

'You shall follow him, and abide by his instructions until he deems you ready.' The Voice had a commanding tone to It now. Dramen rose, bowed, and followed the man to a distant hallway.

The memory resumed as a blur, images of sparring with the man, whom Eragon knew was his half-brother, to magic casting, casting spells beyond the man's understanding. Each time the man grew weak from the drain on the power, Murtagh instructed him to draw on the power of the object he had been given. It was made of granite, although strangely lighter than it should have been. Dramen found an immense power inside the object, a vast store of energy that did not seem to diminish, even as he cast spells that would have easily killed him. He did not know where the power came from, nor did he care, as it was merely a tool to use the spells needed to defeat his imaginary enemies. The one thing that the stone could not help him was when Murtagh engaged in mental attacks, which required more focus than strength.

'Concentrate on one thing, one image, no matter what is around you, even in the midst of a battle.' Murtagh instructed. 'You lose focus, you're dead.'

While they battled, Dramen/Eragon noticed that Murtagh seemed to have multiple beings around him, whispering voices that he did not comprehend, with one louder than the others. Dramen never won, but slowly he improved, able to fend of Murtagh's attacks for longer stretches of time before distracted by a stray thought.

Even though he was beaten continually, Dramen never felt anger towards his instructor. He displayed a hardness, an emotionless wall, that he had never encountered before.

The memory faded away and a final one, crept into Eragon's mind-vision:

It was a summer afternoon, with bright sunlight pouring through some windows on a far wall. Dramen and Murtagh stood before the Voice, whom Murtagh told him to refer to as 'your Majesty'. As the figure turned into the light, Eragon hoped he would get a glimpse of the Galbatorix, but to his surprise, the face had been wiped out, a while silhouette of a face in his direction.

'Has Murtagh deemed your training complete?' the king asked.

'Yes, your Majesty. I have learned everything there is to know.' Dramen answered.

The king laughed, almost scornfully. 'You can never learn enough of magic, but I suppose for your purpose it should suffice. You,' he pointed to a servant, 'bring me the robes.'

The servant bowed and scurried off, leaving the king to address Dramen, 'I am well aware of your powers and potential, your desire to payback to those who have hurt you.'

Dramen nodded firmly.

'To do this however, is not possible, not until we wipe out the Varden. They are a band of misled rebels, led by an Eragon Shadeslayer and his dragon Saphira.'

'Then I shall destroy them all.' Growled Dramen automatically.

The king laughed a humorless laugh. 'That will come later, but for now, you are to be a part of a group that my own student thought of himself rather cleverly.'

He gestured at Murtagh, who showed neither pride nor resentment towards the king's words.

'A branch of the Black Hand if you will. An elite group of magicians like you, strong enough to handle even the elves. The Twins were my first experimentation, and now I have perfected it with you.'

Dramen neither understood who the Twins or the Black Hand were, nor did he care; he would serve the king regardless for the power he had given him. Anything to keep his power.

The king began to speak, but the memory was already fading, morphing into the hate he now had against Eragon for taking the power away…

_Eragon!_

Eragon started and looked around, now with his own eyes. It was late afternoon, with the sun about two hours from setting. He looked around and found the elves looking at him with a mix of worry and excitement.

_Eragon,_

_I'm all right Saphira._

"How long was I out?" Eragon asked Blödhgarm, rubbing his temples. He was still shaking the memories and emotions of Dramen out of his mind.

"About three hours. We had to put the others to sleep to stop them struggling."

Eragon noted the slumped bodies around the elves.

"Were any of you harmed?" he asked concernedly.

The elves shook their heads, and Eragon sighed with relief.

"Who controls these men?" Angela inquired while she examined one of the sleeping sorcerers.

"Galbatorix, but he has Murtagh control them personally." Then Eragon proceeded to tell them what he had seen.

The elves murmured amongst themselves at when Dramen had been given the stone, and they were intrigued by the fact that Eragon could not see Galbatorix's face.

"While it isn't truly important to know what the Black King looks like, it _is _interesting that he should block his image from the memories of his servants," observed Blödhgarm.

"Found it!" Angela exclaimed, as she drew a grey stone from the robes of one of the magicians. Eragon took it and examined it thoroughly.

It was much smaller than the one in Dramen's memories, about the size of Eragon's fist, with the rune for 'deloi' inscribed on it. Eragon cast his mind to the object, to see if it contained any energy stored in it, as Dramen's had.

To his surprise, he found a hoard of energy inside the object, but when he tried to immerse himself in it, he found himself blocked, the energy slipping out of his grasp. Even more surprising was the fact that if he took his hand off the object, he couldn't detect it at all.

_What do you think this is Saphira?_

_I do not know Little One. But it is growing late, and you should return to Nasuada. Perhaps with everyone assembled we could figure out what these energy-stone-not-Eldunarí are._

"Can you alert Nasuada that we have the magicians?" Eragon asked one of the elves.

The elf dipped her head, paused, and then said "It is done."

Then the group waited until a messenger arrived telling them that they could leave. During the wait, Eragon searched the other magicians for their stones and had a total of seven by the end, each roughly the same size. To Eragon's alarm, the not-Eldunarí of Dramen was nowhere to be found, even in the surrounding area. Dismayed, Eragon gave up the search, and tried looking once again through Dramen's memories, but Saphira stopped him, saying,

_Wait. Let's try back in the Varden._

_Why not now, when it must be around this area?_

_The stone must be hidden intentionally well, _Saphira replied. _Better to safely search in our own encampment than risk being attacked by others. _

_Very well, _Eragon said, still unsure of what to make of the stones.

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><p>"Eragon, I heard what had happened. Did you fare well?"<p>

Eragon was in Nasuada's tent facing said lady and Arya, the elves waiting outside. Nasuada had a concerned look on her face, while Arya remained as impassive as ever.

Eragon indicated he was fine, then proceeded to tell them all that had transpired during the day, even detailing the memories of Dramen.

As soon as he had finished, both women launched into a flurry of questions.

Eragon put his hands up in surrender until the ladies had quieted down.

"It is indeed truly shocking that Galbatorix would try to imitate the Eldunarí." Arya said quietly.

Nasuada nodded gravely. "It's difficult enough, with him having _all _of the Eldunarí anyways. Now though, even our regular spellcasters will be far outmatched."

"It was fortunate that they underestimated the power of the elves and Eragon." Arya replied.

_Indeed it was, for with me they would have fled like mice before a hawk. _Saphira said with a soft growl.

"Enough about me, what should we do about them now that we have them?" Eragon questioned.

"Well, interrogate them for more information, then either execute them or use them as bait to attract the others." Nasuada responded.

Eragon looked at Arya expectantly, but she shrugged and said, "I agree with Nasuada."

_What worries me more than all of this is how come we cannot reach the magic within the stones? That's not at all like an Eldunarí. _

"Perhaps they cast a spell to block you from reaching the magic?"

Eragon shook his head. "Such a spell could not work, for why wouldn't the Riders have cast similar ones on their own dragon's Eldunarí? I doubt these stones the magicians have are more valuable than a dragon's heart-of-hearts, so Galbatorix wouldn't have gone to the trouble of enchanting the stones that way. Besides, few magicians even know how to imbue objects with energy, or else they would've spotted the power in Aren immediately in battle."

"True, although the mad king could also know we would seek this power once we discovered it." Nasuada reasoned.

"The wisest counsel that we need should be from Glaedr-elda." Arya murmured.

Eragon thoughts became somber as he thought of the dragon world of agony.

_He will come out when he's ready. _Saphira reassured.

_Yes, but before we face Murtagh or Galbatorix? The sooner he returns the better._

_Mmh. We should try again tonight._

Eragon agreed, and the trio, plus Saphira discussed more tactics about the magician for another hour until Nasuada held up her hands and said, "Enough. We will accomplish no more until we get the full details of these magicians. Eragon, until you know of a solution to this problem and the mysteries around it, I want you to examine, thoroughly, the minds of each magician. People, places, thoughts, everything. Arya, you may help him if you wish."

Arya dipped her head, and she and Eragon exited the tent into the early evening air outside. The majority of the Varden was returning back to camp after a day's work, and they waved and saluted to Eragon as he walked past. Eragon signaled back with a smile, and he continued on to his tent, Arya following behind him. By some unspoken consent, the pair decided that they should seek Glaedr first before all other social interactions. Casting the spells to extract Glaedr from the ground, Eragon gingerly removed it from its velvet pouch, careful not to maintain solid contact, and he gently laid the dragon's heart-of-hearts onto the soft earth in the tent. Eragon was seated facing Arya, with the Eldunarí lying between them.

"You first, or me?" he asked.

"You and Saphira should go, for he recognizes your presence better."

Nodding slowly, Eragon took a deep breath and firmly grasped Glaedr with both hands, with Saphira joining consciousness with him.

_Glaedr! Master! _They cried, hoping to get the elder dragon's attention. In response, they received a faint glimmer of thought, but no direct reply. Disappointed, they tried again, but made no further progress. Removing his hands off the golden orb, Eragon shook his head at Arya's questioning look. She looked grim then grasped the Eldunarí for herself. She made a pained face for a few moments, then set the heart back to the soil and sighed.

"He shall not awaken, although he has recovered from his mindless pain. I only worry he will become a husk, and empty and expressionless shell of a dragon."

_Not if I can do anything about it. _Saphira growled, and suddenly taking control of Eragon's arms, she grasped the Eldunarí with force.

_Glaedr-elda, your self-pity has lasted long enough! _She roared, sending a rush of energy into the Eldunarí.

The effect was immediate and dramatic. Glaedr's mind was silent for a moment, and then an equally ferocious roar called back, _Hatchling! You dare awaken me from the mourning I so deserve?_

_You have mourned long enough. _ Saphira said stubbornly.

_My Rider is dead! Slain by Thorn-red-shrike and Galbatorix's meddling. They shall die for this, _he howled.

_Master we need you now more than ever! _Begged Eragon.

Glaedr's rage subsided, but it still lurked in the back of his mind. _What do you need me for?_

_A mystery only one as wise as you could know. Arya and the rest of us don't understand it._

_So you wake me for some trivial information? _The anger flared once more.

_No, not only that, _Eragon said quickly._ Every day brings us closer to Urû'baen, and the more instruction we could get, the better._

Glaedr was silent a moment, then tiredly said, _Very well, I shall help, but I request that you ask me no more until tomorrow, and I shall help you then. For now, leave me be._

_Of course, Ebrithril. _Saphira/Eragon said. _We only thought that brooding too long would be ill towards the mind._

_As you say. Now go… _

Eragon, now in control of his body, set down the Eldunarí and looked up at Arya. She looked at him concernedly, and he said with a triumphant smile,

"He has agreed to postpone his grieving for the sake of the Varden."

Arya breathed a sigh of relief and replied, "That is indeed fortunate news. We must inform Lady Nasuada when we next meet." Arya began to rise, and Eragon began to bury the Eldunarí in the soil, then decided to bring it with him instead, carefully packing it Saphira's saddlebags to be hidden from people's view.

When given a questioning look from Arya, Eragon just shrugged and said, "The festivities and happiness might make him understand what it means to be _alive_." Arya merely nodded and said no more.

Then the pair left the tent area, and the trio (four with Glaedr) made their way for the evening's feasts. While not as exorbitant as the night before, they still were far more sumptuous than the rations the soldiers were used to, and everyone was grateful for the small luxury Nasuada granted them. Eragon once again sat among his comrades, although the elves, besides Arya who was seating next to him, sat in the section of tables next to his. The men eyed the elves warily, although they seemed more cordial around Arya, who had served with them for numerous years. Eragon wolfed down the cook's meal of local vegetables, bread, and a spicy fish soup broth with leeks and radish that he enjoyed immensely. Saphira meanwhile gorged herself on a slab of beef plus a small barrel of mead to wash it down.

_I think they should add apple-honey mead as one of the staples of a dragon's diet. _She confided to the people at the table, causing them to burst out laughing, to Saphira's happy puzzlement.

_I think the dwarves might've added something to that mead of yours. You didn't drink that much. _Eragon said, chuckling.

_This is going to hurt tomorrow morning._

Eragon grinned. _I'll have one of the elves teach me a spell to clear your head._

_That would be most… convenient. _She answered drowsily.

Eragon shook his head, still softly chuckling to himself. _How very similar to Orik in Ellesmera. _With a jolt, he realized he hadn't talked with Orik since the siege. Excusing himself from his table, he made his way to the dwarven section of the festivities, where he found to his amazement a trio of dwarves dancing a jig on a row of tables, with Orik roaring in laughter as he watched from his own spot. When the dance was over, Eragon waved to Orik, who raised his hand and called, "Ho! Mine foster brother! Come, come, you need to try this brew mine clanmate Hvergdarn hath made! Tis the finest summer ale there ever was!"

Eragon accepted a tankard, inaudibly whispered a spell to check for poisons, though nobody noticed anyways, and took a deep swill of the drink. Warmth bloomed in his mouth, and the aftertaste reminded him of sweet berries in summer as well as ryegrass tea that Garrow often made in the evenings.

Eragon took another quaff, and he grinned broadly at Orik, "How did he make this?"

Orik smiled at the evident enjoyment on Eragon's face and he said, "Ah, if I knew, why then only Herzvog would know if I'd be able to get up in the mornings, what with the amount I would've drunk."

Eragon laughed at replied, "Perhaps if we acquaint him with Saphira, we could _persuade_ him."

Orik chuckled and answered, "Aye, that'd be a sight to see."

The merriment went on until the candle-fires had burnt out, and the torches dimmed. Gradually, the Varden filed away into their tents, although fewer of them had to be dragged than the night before. Eragon was careful not to drink too much, although he did return feeling quite buzzy and content. He smiled lazily at Saphira, who returned the same feeling he had, and when the pair fell into their deep slumbers, their thoughts mingled of Eragon dancing with a raven-haired beauty, and Saphira being admired by the citizens of some Empire city.

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><p><strong>Whoo! Phew, longest chapter everso far. Don't expect ones like those every week, i just had to get an important point explained.**

**By the way,**

**Lithui is just an elf name i made up, same with Hvergdarn, and Dramen. **

**The fish soup i refer to does not mean Eragon ate meat, it was simply fish flavored, like boiled fish, then strained into a separate pot. So yeah.**

**My descriptions of alcohol are purely from what ive read and heard about, DON'T worry about underage laws (though I have tried wine before, hehe)**

**Sorry if this chapter was a bit too positive/long, i just wanted to convey a sense of hope before the struggles that will inevitably come. After all Eragon will only find the VoS when "all seems lost and [his] power insufficient"!**

**As i mentioned, 50 reviews, and next chapter will be within a week from that time. (note: saying "hi" , etc. does not count. Sorry ;) ) and multi chap reviews from 1 person only counts as 1 total.**

**I hope im not sounding too demanding, just it seemed a little unfair on my side. please dont hate me *hopeful face***

**Thanks!**

**~Argetsverd**


	11. Takin' Aroughs

**Er... um. Miss me? Heh... crap. I really have no explanation why I haven't updated in a while. Yeah school had something to do with it sure, but it's mid July now. Basically a month into my summer and I haven't posted at all. I'm sorry guys, I guess just haven't had that same enthusiasm as I first did when I started this fic. And I'm not even 1/4 of the way there in the story! I really have no excuse for my absence, and I hope the very few of you out there who have waited or wondered that you're all still as encouraging as you were before. **

**Anyways, I had this chapter about 80% done for a couple months now, with mostly editing done here and there, without much actual writing.**

**Enjoy!**

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><p>Stumbling off his horse for the third day in a row, Roran cursed the Empire, Nasuada, himself, and everything else in the world for his pains. After days of riding, he had developed large sores on the inside of his thighs, along with chapped lips, which cracked and bled anytime he said anything more than a mumble. The other riders fared little better, and all were windswept and travel-worn. Their journey had not been as particularly heroic as Nasuada put it when she sent them; the days were spent riding, the nights they huddled together around a meager fire for warmth in the wilderness. Originally, the plan was to follow the highways linking the cities of Alagaësia together, but the plan went awry as they encountered more and more refugees as well as highwaymen in the areas near Feinster, which were growing increasingly anarchical, despite the Varden still holding the city. Roran worried if that they did not defeat Galbatorix quickly enough, all out chaos could break out throughout Alagaë were, Roran calculated, about a day's journey away from Aroughs, which comforted the men tremendously, as the general mood around their evening fire displayed. The only good thing about straying off the path was that firewood and game were easier to find, as both were scarce along the King's roads. This night's search brought in some rabbits and a small thrush, a welcome treat after meals of cold cheese and bread. Carn in particular, Roran noted, seem most improved by this new source of food and heightened atmosphere. He even managed to devise a spell using his charmed bracelet that not only healed, but also prevented Roran's lips from splitting constantly. The group went to bed with high spirits, thankful for a small break from the struggles that would await them the coming days.<p>

Roran awakened just before dawn, roused his men, and the group once again began their journey south. At midday, they stopped to rest on a small hillock overlooking a field of marshes. They were nearing Aroughs. The group spent two hours trying to weave their way through the thick marshes and trees, but the pace was agonizingly slow and eventually Roran was forced to give up and they returned to the main road. There seemed to be a sudden absence of people on the road now, Roran noticed, and by the end of the day, he knew why. Up ahead, directly on the path, there was a cluster of grey smudges, with a faint smoke trail above it. Encouraged by this, Roran urged his horse ahead, with the rest of the group following suit. Fifty feet from the Varden encampment, for it was the Varden, a pair of horsemen went out and met the group.

"Halt! Who might your lot be?"

Roran stood tall in his saddle, and stated with as authoritative of a voice as he could muster, "Roran Stronghammer, sent by our Lady Nasuada to capture Aroughs. Where is your superior?"

One guardsman nodded at the other, and the man turned around and rode into camp. The remaining guardsman, an older soldier with long dark bushy sideburns tinged with grey, then snorted at his statement, saying, "Takin' Aroughs? You'd be better off fightin' Galbatorix, with the force we have now. I'm no commander, but even I can tell there's no way of capturin' the city."

Roran was about to respond when a trio of men arrived. It was clear that the foremost man was the leader of the contingent, with his tunic of a finer make than the other men, along with darker leather boots and a sword with a shiny brass pommel rather than plain steel. Despite the garb, Roran could tell he was not a vain man; rather he seemed to assume his dress as simply a part of his higher status in command. The man reigned in his steed and called out, "So the great warrior Stronghammer arrives! Will you be our miracle in taking this accursed city?"

Roran was unsure of whether the man was mocking him or not, but the man laughed and said, "Don't worry, I know you won't go too far in your schemes; after all, we all know what happened the last time you ignored orders." The man winked with a friendly smile, and Roran smiled in return. He was going to get along well with this man.

"The name's Brigman. Captain of the 4th Regiment before I was sent here with this group just before you took Feinster. Nasuada, wise in her ways, thought we could take this city within days, but of course, it was just that, a thought. I suppose your help wouldn't hurt. Come, we have some spare tents pitched that you may use."

Leading the way, Brigman guided the group through the tents and gestured at the ones set aside for the travelers. Roran dismounted, knees almost buckling from exhaustion, but he bore no complaint, and he pulled out the scroll Nasuada had given him and handed it to the captain. Brigman scrutinized the scroll, before tucking it in his tunic.

"They say you once slew two-hundred men single-handedly."

Roran nodded, "Aye, and I've heard that you're a good captain, one of our best, if I'm not mistaken."

Brigman chuckled at this and replied, "Well you know people will say anything to attract attention. Why, there were even rumors once that your cousin Eragon—" but before he could finish there were shouts of warning coming from the south edge of camp. Brigman snapped to attention, his relaxed demeanor gone, replaced with one born of years of military training.

"It seems your arrival was rather ill timed; I hope your men are able enough after your journey to fight." Brigman said gravely. "Suit up soldiers! They aren't going to wait for us to get ready." And the captain proceeded to bark out more orders for his other men in preparation.

Roran looked over at Baldor, who had a look of anxiety on his face, but when he met Roran's eyes, his face hardened and he merely nodded. Mandel appeared just as nervous, but Roran knew his nerves would hold. Carn remained impassive, although it seemed his face was paler than usual.

Brigman left the group, probably to prepare himself for battle, leaving Roran with his own men, for which he was glad. The group, by unspoken consent, all proceeded to don on their various armors and gear. Roran instinctively reached for his hammer at his waist, making sure it was securely fastened, and then placed his arming cap on his head, followed by his helm. His mail shirt came next, and he finished dressing with his forearm and shin guards, drawing the leather cords tight using his teeth.

The group was ready after a few more minutes, when a single horn sounded once, twice, three times, which Roran knew meant the imminent arrival of the enemy. He led the way on foot, knowing it would be downright suicidal to try to fight on horseback after a four-day journey. They were on the southwest side of the camp, and he could hear Brigman nearby. The soldiers were filing out quickly, forming ranks, with spearmen at the front, and archers towards the rear. The captain's orders grew silent as he too joined ranks, just beside Roran.

"Do you think we can hold a full frontal charge?" Roran asked.

Brigman answered tersely, "I believe so; their force is only around three hundred or so, with a hundred cavalrymen. What I'm worried about are the men I've posted at our siege engines." He gestured down towards the city, where a small group of catapults and siege towers lay with a small group of men sitting among them. Roran also saw the forces of Aroughs. At the front were the horsemen with a larger mass of men behind them. From the distance Roran could discern some bright orange pennants, no doubt bearing the crest of the ruling family of the city. Suddenly the group of men, normally at a march, broke out into an all-out charge, the cavalry outdistancing the infantry.

"Men of the Varden," Roran shouted, "my fellow comrades, now is the time we prove to the Empire just who they're dealing with. All of you, stand your ground, guard the man next to you with your life, and know that though they may break our ranks, and our shields, and even our bodies, they will _never_ break our spirits, our loyalties, or our loves, for they shall outlast even the Black King himself. Now I know I have not met many of you, some of you might not even know my name, but all that will be forgotten when our children and grandchildren remember what we did, today for the Varden, doing the job that even the great Eragon Shadeslayer himself was loathe to do."

The soldiers gave a great shout, banging their swords on their shields. Brigman then gave an order to "form the line", and the soldiers straightened themselves out, forming a nearly perfectly straight line. Rather than having grid-like rows, each row was offset, so that even if the Empire managed to break the front line, the Varden forces couldn't be split apart by a wedge.

"Brace yourselves," warned Brigman as the Empire collided with the Varden.

"Archers!" Roran heard someone shout. A twang of arrows sounded, and the frontline of the Empire's cavalry crumpled and tumbled, tripping the horses behind them. Roran almost hoped that the entire charge would fall into disarray, but his hopes were lost as the Empire quickly recovered, and this time charged in a V shape.

"Pikes!" commanded Brigman, his voice as hard as steel.

The front row raised their pointed staffs, even as the archers continued laying down wave after wave of angry buzzing arrows. Roran heard himself shout along with the rest of the men, although he felt detached from the battle after his speech, as though he was viewing the battle from a faraway position. The cavalry smashed into the Varden line with a tremendous crash, almost breaking the line, before retreating after the Varden furiously fought back with their pikes and spears, piles of men and horses now beginning to appear. Roran heard Mandel ask him, "Should we chase after them and meet their army head on?" to which Roran heard himself say "No, because they haven't sent out their whole force; this is merely an attempt to weaken or trick us into following them back to the city, where they may have their full force waiting. Better to let them batter away at us, tiring themselves instead."

The Empire's foot soldiers were close behind the cavalry, brandishing their swords and spears and shouting curses at the Varden's soldiers. Roran tensed; ready for what he knew would be a bloody, and hopefully brief, battle. He knew that for once, the Varden outnumbered the Empire two-to-one; but even so, he knew victory would come at a great cost to the Varden in men and time.

The next three hours or so were a blur to Roran, who still felt apart from the fighting. Apart that is, until a spear cut into his left shoulder, immediately drawing him into the battle. Pain, it seemed, focused him to a point where nothing, not his fears, loves, or hopes would get in the way of the job at hand: defeat the Empire in any way possible. Roran gave a snarl and a flurry of blows later, succeeded in slaughtering a group of the Empire's soldiers, before jumping back behind the safety of a wall of razor sharp swords, axes, and spears.

Then, as quickly as the battle seemed to have started, it also ended, with the Empire's soldiers retreating back to the city, their numbers decimated to less than fifty men left, with only four horsemen remaining. Many of the Varden gave a whoop of victory and wished to chase them all the way to the city, but Brigman and Roran gave orders to remain at camp, which resulted in many groans and complaints, but no one dared disobey orders.

"Bring the wounded to the sick tents; I want a tally of casualties!" Brigman ordered, "And Stronghammer, if none of your men are wounded badly, come to my tent; I will have a man send for you." Then the captain remounted his horse, and headed off, presumably to his tent. Roran wandered back through camp, ignoring the throbbing in his shoulder, until he recognized his tent, where Baldor and the other men stood waiting.

"Anybody injured?" he asked.

Carn shook his head. "A few scratches, and Mandel had a gash on his calf, but I healed it." Noticing Roran's injury, Carn rushed forwards, examining the wound with a look of concern.

"You're hurt! Hold still," and before Roran could protest, Carn placed his palm on the wound, and began murmuring something in the ancient language. At once, the pain began to dissolve as the spell began reknitting his damaged muscle, with his skin smoothing over as though the battle had never happened. Roran rolled his shoulder, tensing and relaxing the muscle until he was satisfied. He noticed that ever since Eragon had given him the bracelet, Carn wasn't as tired from the healings, and so seemed energized somehow, as though the energy he would normally have spent healing could now be used for other purposes. During the battle, Roran could swear he saw Carn conjuring spells he had never used before.

Roran told the men they could remove their armor and return to their tents, and he removed his battle gear as well, setting it down in his tent so that he could reach it quickly in case of another emergency. A messenger stood outside his tent when Roran went out. The man, who was more of a boy, had long brown hair, which covered his eyes, causing him to toss it aside constantly with a flick of his head.

"The c-captain's tent is this way," he stammered leading the way with a quick pace, almost a trot. Roran followed the boy to the eastern side of camp, where a grey tent, larger than the others, stood tall, with two guards posted outside. It was nowhere near as grand or large as Nasuada's pavilion, but it served its purpose.

"Roran!" Brigman stood from his desk, his demeanor very relaxed, considering the battle that had just taken place. "You're here early. Are any of your men injured?"

Roran shook his head. "Nothing too bad; I brought a spellcaster though to heal us just in case."

The captain nodded as he sat back down, "That is good, for the mage Nasuada sent us is particularly talentless, he struggles to heal even the smallest scratch."

"The able ones are stretched thin throughout the Varden; most of them are required to protect the Lady." Roran commented.

"I suppose so, but let's get to why I asked you to come here. What exactly did Nasuada send you to do here? How does she expect a group of six men to suddenly allow our force to overrun a city we've tried to take for the past few weeks?"

Roran was unsure of what to say. He didn't want to be rude, but he still wanted to be honest in his thoughts. "I believe that since I am known for my… unorthodox methods in combat that I would find a solution to taking the city that you… that you may have not."

Brigman leaned back in his wooden chair, an impassive look upon his face. "She is not wrong about that, my friend, as you have done the unthinkable numerous times in the past. But trust me when I say this: Aroughs is unconquerable with the men and resources we have now. The only real course of action is to wait and hope she sends reinforcements, but until then, I suppose I may as well let you see the scale of what you have to accomplish."

Brigman stood once again from his chair, and he exited his tent, leading the way.

"Aroughs is a city of roughly five thousand people, although with the troops Galbatorix posted, it may number close to seven thousand."

Roran looked toward the direction he was pointing, and saw the city down in the valley. The city had two levels, one taller than the other. Surrounding the city were an assortment of farms and even large manors. Outside the city lay the Varden's siege engines, though they seemed pitifully small compared to the walls of the city.

"As you can see, breaching the walls is no easy task, and having far less men than the Empire doesn't help either. Today's battle may have been successful, but we still lost a good hundred men, while the Empire still has thousands at its disposal. Attacking the city through conventional means is utterly impossible. However I simply cannot fathom how you would do it otherwise; the walls are too high to climb over, and we do not know enough about the interior to make a good estimate of where key strategic points would be."

Roran scratched his beard, thoughtfully looking down at the city. True, he could see past the walls into the city, but as Brigman said, he couldn't decipher where the guard stations might be, or how well defended the inner levels were, or even which house was in use or not. Roran could only tell that the main gate opened to a wide street leading directly to the next gate of the inner wall, with a multitude of houses and shops beside it. Inside the inner gate, Roran could just make out a large palatial building, undoubtedly the quarters of their lord. A key detail, Roran noted, was that one side of the city near the Varden was open to the sea, although the gap was very narrow, almost too small for any ship to enter through.

When Roran indicated to Brigman this point, the captain nodded and answered, "Aye, that's a small port that they use to bring in supplies they normally wouldn't get here, various spices and the like. Trying to break that gate wouldn't be any easier than the main one, seeing as we lack any battle-worthy ships."

Roran nodded, but kept his thoughts to himself. _There is no way that the city is unattainable. _Roran reasoned. _If we cannot get men in, then they cannot leave the city either. They _have_ to break at some point. If only Nasuada could give me another week! _However, Roran knew this was unlikely; the Varden desperately needed these men if they were to have any success taking Dras Leona, especially with winter fast approaching. This had to be decided within the next few days, with as few casualties as possible.

After exchanging some more thoughts on various tactics and strategies, Roran returned to his tent. While there was no doubt Brigman was an excellent captain, he lacked one intangible quality that Roran knew was needed in this type of situation: creativity. It was blatantly clear that taking the city was impossible through ways taught in the traditional officer schools, and Roran was afraid that Brigman could not exceed the capabilities of what his training, smart as he was.

_He has done all that he could have. The situation could have been worse._

Roran asked Brigman how the port was set up. Brigman promptly replied, "The sea extends some ways into the city, I'd say about five hundred feet. They have a gated iron portcullis that closes about twenty feet underwater, where there is another solid iron gate. The metal's as thick as my waist though, so there's no use in trying to cut through."

Roran thought for a moment. "Iron you say? And the water is salty yes?"

Brigman nodded. "Aye, it's unrefined, but tough. And yes, the sea provides them with salt year-round. Why do you ask?"

"How well do you think they maintain the metal gate?"

Recognition dawned on Brigman's face. "You mean to think it's rusted away?"

Roran nodded, "Aye, I haven't heard of a battle here for some time, and longer still for a naval attack. The only ships that come here are the ones you said, spice and grain boats. I doubt they'd have checked to see how strong the metal still is."

Brigman chuckled. "Stronghammer, I've never met anyone the likes of you. However there's no guarantee that it'll work."

Roran nodded. "Yes, we'll have to send a small group just to find out. I'll lead one if you wish."

Brigman spread his arms in mock surrender. "You're the mastermind here, Stronghammer. This is a blasted plan, but a plan indeed. Let's just hope it goes well."

**So yeah, the chapter was a touch short, and it definitely wasn't the way I wanted it, but I worked with what I had. Paolini's version of Roran capturing Aroughs is so much better than I had originally thought, that this section of the story is going to take some careful and creative planning to make it even half as epic as CP's.**

**Next chapter will be... Hmmm with my procrastination, who knows? I think Eragon's though, who knows.**

**Until next time,**

**~Argetsverd**


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